


Mensonge

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Series: The Krisho Whodunit Files [7]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Fluff and Smut, But Mostly Smut, Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-07 20:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19857472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: Junmyeon hasn’t thought about his ex-husband, Zitao, in eight years. That chapter in his life is over but then he is called to the police station to identify his ex-husband’s body. On asking why him, DI Zhang Yixing says it is because they can’t find Zitao’s half-brother and Junmyeon’s former brother-in-law, Yifan.Junmyeon is pushed back in time, back when he was young and blindly in love with Zitao, back when he started to fall out of love and back to the time he almost made a mistake.





	1. First Act: La Mort

**Author's Note:**

> watch me add another fic to ever-growing WIP pile

When it rains, it pours. Junmyeon never understood how true this saying was until today. He is, right now, in a cab heading for the police station. First, he was late to work. Second, he missed lunch because he had too much work on his hand. And now, lastly, he is heading to identify his ex-husband’s body in the police morgue.

Huang Zitao, thirty, was found decomposing in a shallow grave in a park by an overenthusiastic Golden Retriever and his owners alerted the police when they realised what their beloved pet dug up wasn’t a dead squirrel but a rotting human finger. Junmyeon hasn’t seen Zitao outside social media posts for eight years, and now, he has been summoned to identify the body because even if they aren’t together, they had a relationship.

Junmyeon can’t tell what he is feeling exactly. But there is one thought plaguing him right now. This seems wrong, so very atrocious. Zitao? Who could kill Zitao? Junmyeon has been informed it was murder: his neck was broken. Junmyeon isn’t convinced. Zitao may have been obnoxious, spoilt, selfish, self-centred, and immature but he didn’t have anyone who hated him so much to kill him. Suddenly, Junmyeon realises another thing.

He’s not being treated as a suspect, is he? He understands that he did hate Zitao once upon a time but he never hated his former husband enough to murder him. They were twenty-one and young and blind in love when they got married. They didn’t know any better, they didn’t know marriage meant compromises, it meant dealing with conflict maturely. Like the Huang matriarch predicted, their marriage fell apart within a year and the divorce went by so fast and smoothly that Junmyeon felt like he never was even there, in the Huang mansion, in the court—all of it.

(Throughout all that, Junmyeon remembers kind eyes, a reassuring warm hand on his back, and he swallows—he  _ cannot  _ be thinking about that right now.)

The cab stops on Arsenal Street, Wan Chai, in front of the Hong Kong Police Headquarters, and Junmyeon takes a deep breath before descending from the cab and paying the fare. The building is huge and he feels a bit stumped but the detective inspector on Zitao’s case told him he would be at the reception, so all Junmyeon has to do is find the reception, right? That shouldn’t be too hard.

So, he takes another deep breath and pushes the glass door to get inside. He finds the reception and the sheer amount of people rushing by him overwhelms him, but he steels himself and marches up to the desk. He leans down and asks, “Excuse me, can you tell me where Detective Inspector Zhang Yixing is?”

The woman behind the fibreglass partition smiles and gestures at something behind Junmyeon, “There, he is on that black chair.”

Junmyeon turns around and finds a man dressed in an olive bomber jacket and jeans sitting on a black chair. He is scrolling through his phone and scowling at it. Junmyeon bravely steps up to him and clears his throat, “Hello, Detective Inspector Zhang?”

The man in question looks up and Junmyeon sees he is young, maybe as old as him. His eyes are clouded with questions but they clear as he realises, “Are you Kim Junmyeon?” When Junmyeon nods, Yixing stands up and smiles tightly, as if even this simple gesture was plain displeasing to him, “Yes, I am DI Zhang.” They shake hands and Yixing drops the smile and becomes all sombre as he says, “I am so sorry about this, but we had no other way and we needed confirmation on the body before we can process it. Please, this way.”

Junmyeon frowns a little as he follows Yixing down a corridor, towards the elevators. Yixing hits the button for the first lower basement and Junmyeon finally cracks. He clears his throat again and asks, “Um, you said you had no other way, can I ask why? I mean, I know Missus Huang passed away three years ago, but my bro—I mean, my former brother-in-law still lives here, doesn’t he?”

Yixing licks his lips before sighing. “Mister Wu Yifan has been missing for the last three weeks.”

Junmyeon gasps, “But, how is that possible? You can’t miss a man like Wu Yifan!”

Yixing scoffs a bit at Junmyeon’s reply; he knows what the man means. Wu Yifan is always in the news, for his risky business ventures or for the many night outs he has with celebrities hanging from his arms or for the list of people he burns through for flings—an heiress today, an Air Force pilot tomorrow. It is taken for granted that you will hear about Yifan in the tabloids at least three to four times a week, so the fact that no one can find him is truly suspicious. He says, “Did you see the post about him taking a small break from the outside world? We got his PR to churn that story out. No one knows about Zitao yet, either. So, it goes without saying that you can’t tell anyone about this either.”

Junmyeon nods, “I understand.” He can’t breathe right now, but he has to show that he’s fine.  _ Yifan is missing, this is just not possible.  _ He puts his weight against the side of the elevator and tries to bring back his breathing to normal. He also hopes Yixing doesn’t notice how rattled he is about Yifan’s disappearance more than his ex-husband’s death. Not that he wants it to be like this, but he just gets this ominous shiver down his spine and for the first time since this descend to hell began, he truly feels scared about everything.

The elevator reaches their level and they step out when the doors open. As Yixing leads, he informs, “So, please remember that the body was found in a grave after a whole month, so the condition of his corpse is not very, well, visually appealing, but if you can remember any visual markers—”

“He has tattoos on his neck and right bicep,” Junmyeon quietly says. “I think I can recognise him, I mean was with him for three years.” He quietly chuckles, “I once told him I could recognise him blind in a snowstorm.”

Yixing halts, turning around and lightly pressing Junmyeon’s shoulder. He thought maybe the ex-husband was not too affected by the death but now Yixing understands Junmyeon  _ is  _ probably struggling to deal with it. He did notice how pale and shaky he got in the elevator. He understands Junmyeon on a level perhaps; after all, he’s divorced as well but his husband is still alive and well, but if anything ever happened to him, Yixing doesn’t know how he would feel either. Attachments sometimes remain even if we can’t see them, Yixing surmises.

Yixing resumes walking and Junmyeon drags his feet after him. They stop in front of the doors to the morgue, and Yixing asks, putting his hand on the door handle, “You ready?”

Junmyeon nods and Yixing pushes the door open. The gust of chilled wind surprises Junmyeon as Yixing explains, “The temperatures usually run a little low here. Sorry about that.”

Their footsteps on the tiles are loud and sound like thunder to Junmyeon’s ears. They stop in front of another room and Junmyeon reads the moniker attached to it: Viewing Room. So, this is it. 

Yixing opens another door and Junmyeon suddenly realises he can’t move. His legs suddenly felt like they are made of lead and his heart feels like it is getting squeezed by an iron fist. He can’t do this and takes a step back. Yixing speaks up, “Come on, Junmyeon. The quicker you do this, the easier it’ll be for you.”

Junmyeon closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and steps closer to the window looking into the morgue. He stops and the pathologist on the other end looks at Yixing, who nods and the woman pulls the cover off Zitao’s head. Junmyeon gasps and he stumbles back. He peers closer and he can’t recognise his former husband, almost, thanks to the bloated cheeks, the skin on his face filled with holes where insects ate through or made their nests, and with dark spots on his shoulders. Junmyeon can see the bone almost poking out of his skin on the neck. But the right bicep is facing Junmyeon and he sees the Z.Tao tattoo. Junmyeon gasps, his lungs crushing under the sob he is forcing to push back, “That, that’s Zitao, detective Zhang. I see his tattoo.”

“Okay, thank you, let’s get you out of here.”

Junmyeon stares into his cup of black, bitter coffee and he tries to swallow the knot in his throat. Yixing brought him to an empty interrogation room, handed him coffee and left him alone. Yixing said he needs to talk and Junmyeon gets this feeling again that he is being treated like a suspect, perhaps. There are no handcuffs around his wrists and he has no reason to feel like he’s a criminal but there’s just something about police stations and empty interrogation rooms. 

Yixing returns with a cup of coffee for himself and a thick folder. He plops down on the seat opposite Junmyeon and smiles. Another young man follows the detective a second later and this one looks years younger than them both. Junmyeon finally notices the detective has dimples, and he rather looks cute (and harmless) when he smiles. Yixing says, “Sorry about this, but I thought since you’re already here, it’d be better to talk to you about mister Huang and see if you can give us anything we can use.” He turns to the newcomer and says, “And this is Detective Sergeant Qian Kun, my partner.”

Junmyeon shrugs, “But detective, I haven’t seen him in eight years.”

Kun says, “We know that mister Kim, but you did know once upon a time, and with his parents dead, his brother MIA and his friends being no help at all to us, we thought maybe you could help.”

Junmyeon frowns, “Help? How?”

Yixing leans over the table, pressing his lips, “Well, you already know he was murdered. Someone broke his neck with great precision. Would you know if he had any enemies?”

Junmyeon shakes his head. “Zitao didn’t have enemies. I mean, he pissed off people plenty with his attitude at times, but,” Junmyeon sighs, smiling a little, “He was a nice enough man at the end of the day.”

Yixing grins, “Nice enough?”

Junmyeon chuckles, looking down into his coffee again. “Well, in our defence, we got married when we were twenty-one. Way too young and immature for marriage, and people did try to tell us to not. His mother hated me, his brother seemed somewhat supportive and our friends kept telling us we were making a mistake, but we were in love and nothing was going to stop us.” He chuckles again, feeling the familiar bitterness seep into him. “It lasted a year and thirteen days. The divorce was so quick, thanks to mommy dearest and her deep pockets and her long, long list of contacts.”

Kun raises an eyebrow, “Was the late missus Huang that bad?”

“Oh,” Junmyeon laughs. “She was awful! Straight out of a Korean drama awful!” He rubs his face before saying, “But enemies? I don’t think Zitao ever did anything too extreme to make enemies.”

“What about his half-brother, Wu Yifan?” Kun asks. Kun waves his hand, shrugging his shoulder, “I mean, they are only  _ half  _ brothers.”

Junmyeon laughs; oh, he has heard this time and time before. He shakes his head. “No, no, you don’t understand. Yifan and Zitao have an age gap of ten years, his father died when Zitao was hardly walking, and his mother was moving onto her third marriage, so Zitao was Yifan’s responsibility and Yifan probably loves—loved—Zitao like his own child.” Junmyeon’s smile drops and he gasps, whispering to himself, “Oh my god, this will kill Yifan…” 

_ “Hey, Junmyeon, right? I’m not botching your name, am I?” the tall Chinese man says as he slides into the car.  _

_ Junmyeon shakes his head, smiling, “No, no, your pronunciation is perfectly right.” _

_ Junmyeon and Zitao have been dating for three months and it is Junmyeon’s birthday today, so Zitao had a surprise planned for him. Therefore, he sent his older brother to pick him up. Junmyeon has met Yifan only once, from afar. But at close quarters, Junmyeon has to admit that Yifan is devastatingly good-looking and the crinkles in the corner of his eyes as he smiles are kind and gentle. Also, Yifan is a lot older than them, and more accomplished too. At twenty-nine, he’s already assisting his father in running the biggest mixed industries conglomerate in Hong Kong and beyond. And he looks the part too, in his slicked-back hair, rolled up white shirt, Rolex watch and tailored trousers. Junmyeon can’t help but admire Yifan a little. _

_ “So, how old are you turning? Twenty, right?” _

_ “Yes. I’m the same age as Zitao, just started school earlier than most kids.” _

_ “Ah,” Yifan nods. “So, your Cantonese is pretty perfect. I swear I remember Tao saying you moved to Hong Kong only four months ago!” _

_ Junmyeon chuckles, “Actually, my parents divorced and my mother moved here, so I have spent many summers here. That’s why I know my way around the city, and the language too.” _

_ “That’s cool,” Yifan smiles. They pass a green light in silence before Yifan asks, “Hey, can I ask you a question?” _

_ “Sure.” _

_ “I just, I just needed to know if you really like Tao, because he’s just—well, he’s just—” _

_ “Your baby brother?” Junmyeon adds. “He told me you’re protective.” _

_ Yifan scoffs, “I’m not, I’m not protective!” He glances at Junmyeon, who’s grinning widely at him. “Okay, I’m a little protective, but he’s young, and basically a man-child…” _

_ Junmyeon giggles; Yifan glances at him again but he holds Junmyeon’s gaze for a moment longer before Junmyeon says, his voice turning gentler, “I do like Zitao a lot, he’s amazing.” _

_ That seems to appease Yifan because he just smiles a little before turning his attention back to the road. He just says, “Happy birthday, Junmyeon, I’m glad my brother found you.”  _

Kun says, interrupting Junmyeon’s flashback, “If we can find Yifan in the first place…”

Junmyeon gasps again, “Right, he’s missing!” He widens his eyes, “Oh my god, he’s not in trouble either, is he?”

“We don’t know that,” Yixing tries to reassure. “But, trust us, we’re looking.”

Junmyeon leans forward, “Hey, I remember, they own islands somewhere, don’t they?”

Yixing smiles, “Oh, yes, they do, and we did check, all five of them. And the many villas in Tuscany, Provence, Majorca, Okinawa and Los Angeles.”

Kun jeers, “I knew the Wu-Huangs were rich, but I didn’t think they were this rich.”

Junmyeon can’t help but join in and scoff, “Yeah, they had a whole VR system in their mansion before Alibaba even got interested in the tech.”

Kun raises an eyebrow and hummed. “And they let Alibaba take it?”

Junmyeon shrugs, “I was the least interested in their business, so don’t ask me.”

Yixing clears his throat and sends a small glare at his partner’s direction. “Anyway, you were married to Huang for how long? A year, right?” Junmyeon nods. “But you dated him for two years prior to the marriage, now?” Junmyeon nods again. “So, in total, three years. You can’t be around the richest family in China and not get to know or hear things.”

Junmyeon sighs, rubbing his face again. He downs the rest of his lukewarm coffee and says, “Honestly, I was dragged to those fancy galas but I would zone out every time. They were just so excruciatingly boring.”

_ Junmyeon has lost count of the events he had to accompany Zitao to. They have been married for only two months and Junmyeon had already been to enough functions to fill a year. The tuxedo is too stiff, the shirt collar is too starched and the new Dolce & Gabbana shoes are hurting his big toe on both feet. He needs to breathe, he needs to get out. _

_ After Zitao and his mother introduced him to another faceless, nameless being, he grabs his chance when a lull occurs, when his mother-in-law finds an old acquaintance and leaves them, and Zitao makes a beeline for the open bar. He rushes out of the hall and walks through the big doors, turns right, not knowing where he’s going—he just needs to escape, even if it is for a moment. _

_ The carpet ends at a door down the corridor and he opens it. He steps into what looks like a conservatory. The roof is slanted and paned with glass. The floor has a check pattern and the light layer of dust tells him not a lot of people use this space. But it’s empty, so it serves his purpose. He looks up and he finds the moon peeking from behind a cloud, washing the room in pale blue light. He walks up to a window and opens it, and the rust and misuse makes a loud, screeching noise that makes him wince.  _

_ There are some creepers growing along the sides of the window and he gently pushes them aside so he could climb and sit on the edge. First, he loses the tuxedo jacket, then pops open the first two buttons of his shirt, and finally loses the shoes. He cracks the bones on his toes and then prods them tenderly, checking to only learn they are swollen, badly. His mother-in-law got him the whole outfit, so he wonders if she did this on purpose. Knowing how malevolent she is, Junmyeon won’t be surprised.  _

_ He puts his head against the metal pane and takes a deep, deep breath. He shouldn’t be here, he doesn’t belong in Zitao’s world. He had a computer programmer for a mother and a humble literature professor for a father. While he didn’t live in absolute poverty, but he also wasn’t surrounded by such suffocating excess. He grew up with enough and he was happy. He thought he could be happy with Zitao too, but he doesn’t know how long he can last in their world of extravagance and artifice.  _

_ He knows what they say about him in the upper echelon. Gold digger, money-hungry slut, opportunist are some of the kinder things he had heard about himself. Just because he’s from a different background, of a lower class than the Wu-Huangs, it’s just hard for people to believe he married for love and never for money. Mrs Huang thinks he enchanted her darling son to usurp his inheritance still. The only sane person in the family is Yifan, who seems to believe that his brother-in-law isn’t some go-getter. In fact, Yifan is the only one nice to him in this family. _

_ “So, you finally managed to escape, hm?” _

_ Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Junmyeon is frightened by the unexpected appearance of a tall, dark figure by the door. But then he steps into the moonlight and Junmyeon exhales in relief. It is only Yifan, looking like he stepped out of some magazine in his prim Louis Vuitton suit. _

_ Yifan had coloured his hair recently to a washed-out silver and he was so sure he looked too weird. Junmyeon remembers how he complimented Yifan and the man just blushed. Yifan, the very epitome of confidence can pull off anything, but for some reason, Junmyeon remembers that shy, gummy smile like it happened yesterday. Junmyeon just smiles and runs his fingers through his hair, messing up the hairdo, “Just, needed some air.” _

_ Yifan walks closer and nods, “Yeah, I know how that gets. Stifling, annoying.” _

_ Junmyeon leans against the pane again and says, “But, haven’t you been doing this for years now?” _

_ “Yeah,” Yifan leans against the edge and smiles, “It never gets easier. And I can’t imagine how it could be any fun for you. You only joined the circus two months ago.” _

_ Junmyeon chuckles and looks down at his feet. He doesn’t see the way Yifan glances at his feet as well and inches even closer. Junmyeon flinches and almost falls off his seat when Yifan leans down and gingerly touches his feet. Junmyeon pushes his hand away and widens his eyes, “Ah! Gege, what are you doing?” _

_ Yifan frowns, “Are the shoes too tight for you? I did ask Zitao for your size, but I guess he was wrong.” _

_ Junmyeon gets only more surprised, “You...um, didn’t mama buy them?” _

_ Yifan looks sheepish as he chuckles and scratches his nape, “Well, she only accompanied me that day. I chose the shoe.” _

_ The black suede shoes with the steel grey piping are not ugly in any way, so Junmyeon assures, “No, the shoes are very stylish, but—” _

_ “But they don’t fit you,” Yifan says and crosses his arms, glaring at said shoes. “I knew I should have just directly asked you and not trust Zitao.” _

_ Junmyeon feels conflicted right now. In between feeling slightly upset that his husband doesn’t know his shoe size, he also feels agitated that Yifan is blaming himself for his discomfort. He slides down the edge and his bare feet touches the cold, dusty floor but he pays that no mind as he inches closer to Yifan and touches his elbow. He mutters, “It’s okay, gege, you didn’t know any better. I, thank you for the lovely gift anyway.” _

_ Yifan looks up, having bored many imaginary holes into the shoes. As his gaze locks onto Junmyeon, the latter watches as his pupils dilate and his eyes flicker down to Junmyeon’s lips for half a second. Or maybe Junmyeon imagines all of that because before he can fathom, Yifan steps back, slipping out of Junmyeon’s hold, saying, “No, I, I will get that exchanged. Just send it across to the office tomorrow.” _

_ Junmyeon gets flustered at the sudden shift in Yifan’s body language. He is all stiff now, and he seems serious, so fighting the heat on his face, Junmyeon murmurs, “Okay.” _

_ “We should, uh, get back.” _

Kun and Yixing stare at Junmyeon, who has been quiet for some seconds now, his eyes all unfocused, as if he’s lost in some past. Yixing gently prods, “Mister Kim? Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon shakes his head, trying to forget the night he gradually started comparing the two brothers in his head. He blinks at Yixing, his head tilted to the side as he says, “Sorry? Were you saying something?”

Kun and Yixing share a look before the latter says, “I think, I think you should go home for now. We will get in touch with you later if we need to.”

“Oh?” Junmyeon straightens up, his eyes widening slightly as he nods, “Okay.” He gets to his feet, stumbling a little. “Oh, I wanted to ask, what about the body?”

Yixing shrugs, “Well, unless we can get in touch with his brother or his cousin, who lives in Japan, we will keep him here. But—”

“But if not,” Junmyeon smiles wryly, “I will have to arrange my ex-husband’s funeral.”

When he returns to his office to grab the rest of his things and inform his boss about his early leave, his colleague and friend, Minseok, finds him. He hurries into Junmyeon office and shuts the door behind him, his wide as he asks, “So, is it Zitao?”

Yixing did say to not tell anyone but for the sake of his sanity, Junmyeon had to tell someone, so he told Minseok through text. Junmyeon nods at Minseok’s question and the latter clicks his tongue before rushing over and pulling Junmyeon into his arms. He murmurs, “Oh, you poor soul.”

Junmyeon wraps his arms around Minseok and says, “I am fine.”

“Are you? Even though you guys were divorced, you still loved him once upon a time.”

Junmyeon exhales, his chest hurting again. That’s the thing, isn’t it? He did love Zitao, loved him so much once upon a time.

_ “Junmyeon?” _

_ Junmyeon is in the bedroom, curled under the blanket, still crying. He can hear Zitao’s voice from the living room and he is in no mood to respond. They had another fight and Zitao stormed off only to return in two hours. Six months into this marriage and they are already falling apart, but Junmyeon can’t let this not work—he is not his parents. _

_ However, it’s hard when Zitao still behaves like a child and flirts with people. It is hard when he comes home late and doesn’t remember promising Junmyeon that they would go out to dinner. It is hard when he doesn’t take their relationship seriously. It doesn’t mean that Zitao doesn’t try to better himself, but sometimes it’s not enough. But Junmyeon still loves him so much, he knows he will forgive everything. So, rubbing his face, he sits up on the bed and Zitao steps inside, turning the lights on. _

_ Junmyeon turns to look at Zitao and the latter takes one look at the red nose, sad eyes and he crumbles. He rushes to the bed and throws his arms around Junmyeon, pulling him close and hugging him as tightly as he can. Junmyeon is taken aback—from the hug and from the lack of the scent of alcohol on Zitao. Whenever Zitao storms off after a fight, he usually comes back home smelling like a liquor store. So, the fact that he doesn’t right now makes Junmyeon’s heart clench a little. Maybe, maybe he can do this, they can do this. _

_ Zitao presses his face into Junmyeon’s shoulder and then kisses his neck. He mumbles, “I’m so sorry love, I’m so sorry. I swear I’ll do better. I can’t, I can’t imagine leaving you, I’ll die Myeon.” _

_ Junmyeon closes his eyes and sighs. He knows Zitao loves him, passionately so. And he knows that he loves Zitao too. He whispers, “I can’t live without you too. Please don’t do this to me, I need you too much. I’m sorry as well.” _

_ Zitao pulls back and cups Junmyeon’s face. He leans closer and Junmyeon meets him halfway, their lips crashing in a kiss that explains just how much they need each other, love each other. Junmyeon parts his lips, and Zitao licks into his mouth. Junmyeon moans and Zitao pushes him on his back. He breaks the kiss to look down at Junmyeon and say, “I love you.” _

_ Junmyeon slowly smiles and he feels tears prickling behind his eyes but this time it’s not in sadness as he says, “I love you too.” _

Things got better only to worsen. Junmyeon learned why Zitao came back home sober that day. Apparently, Yifan found him in a bar, about to order his drink but Yifan dragged his sorry ass out of the bar, talked to him and drove him back to the apartment he shared with Junmyeon. And for the next few months, it was all okay till Junmyeon got the scholarship to study for his diploma in London. Things crumbled pretty soon after that.

But before that, during the fall of his first semester, Junmyeon remembers the day he met Zitao, remembers the way his heart skipped beats at the slightly feline smile and at the sharp, gleaming eyes, the floppy blond hair, the words that curled around him like smoke and desire. He remembers the rollercoaster of a summer that followed—their first kiss in front of a club, their first time in Zitao’s flat as the heaven poured outside, their first fight by the Victoria Harbour, the first time they said they loved each other under this garish display at Times Square. Then, on his twenty-first birthday, Zitao proposed. Junmyeon didn’t even think about saying no.

They were happy, weren’t they? Junmyeon knows they had those days and so many good memories. And now, Zitao is gone. So, he finally breaks and cries in Minseok’s arms.


	2. Second Act: L'Amour

“Death was instantaneous,” the pathologist, Song Qian, informs Yixing. She waves her forefinger around the point the bone is almost poking through the skin. “The trauma occurred to the third cervical vertebra, his respiratory muscles were paralysed, so he couldn’t breathe, and his blood pressure probably dropped to fatal levels. I would say it took him ten to twelve minutes to die.”

Yixing and Kun nod behind their masks. The smell of decay doesn’t bother the forensic pathologist but the two detectives are finding it very hard to breathe. Qian walks up to the x-ray prints laid on her lighted table and removes her gloves as she says, “The blow was fatal, very precise, no hesitation. I’d say they came from the back and put him in a chokehold, and bam, bone snapped.”

Kun says, “Do you think it was by someone with perhaps a background in combat or something?”

Qian hums, “Possible.” 

Kun asks Yixing in a low voice, “Do Yifan and Junmyeon have any fighting skills?”

Yixing narrows his eyes at his partner, “Hey, we are not gonna suspect them just yet.”

Kun shrugs; he doesn’t necessarily suspect them either but they are running low on a suspect list and getting pressure from the Chief because of the high profile death and possible missings person. 

Qian claps her hand and plops down on her stool. “Okay, you two, now leave me the fuck alone so I can run some tests and shit. Come bother me tomorrow.”

Yixing bows and Kun waves at the pathologist as they leave the room. They take a huge gulp of air, filling their lungs with the air outside of the room—well, they are still indoors but the cold, stale air-conditioned air is better than the air inside. Kun pulls his phone out of his pocket and says, “Okay, so I’m on Yifan’s trail currently, and you told me to look at his finances as well, so cyber finally cracked through his older transactions. I see something funny.”

They are walking and talking, so as Yixing presses the button for the elevator, he asks, “What do you see?”

Kun frowns as they step inside the elevator. “You know, I’ve seen this name before. William Chan, juvenile delinquent turned extortionist turned private investigator.”

“William, William,” Yixing hums, smiling a little, “I’ve run across him previously.” Then, he asks, “What was Wu Yifan doing with William Chan?”

“Well, Wu was sending him money every month for a year in 2016.”

“You think it was blackmail?”

“Could be, he is a slimebag after all,” Kun says. “I can go talk.”

“No, I’ll come with. I need to see the outside.”

Kun smiles, “You didn’t go home again last night?”

“I spent all of last night filling my last case,” Yixing says, rubbing his eyes. “I need coffee, from a good, fancy cafe.”

Kun chuckles, “It is seven in the evening gege, do you really want to mess your sleep cycle so much?”

Yixing scowls, “Don’t you lecture me, I’m older than you.” 

Some minutes later, they are heading towards Tung Choi St. on Kowloon, looking for a specific bar that is the haunts of William Chan—according to Yixing and Kun wonders how his partner had that information. The streets are drenched in neon and the loud horns from the buses are grating but Kun and Yixing are acclimatised to this, to the very chaos Hong Kong embodies. They find the bar and step inside, Kun spotting William immediately. 

The man in question is seated on a barstool, surrounded by women and a whole bottle of whiskey rests near his elbow. Yixing eyes him for a moment, there is a certain rakish charm to him. Kun grins, “Looks like we’re gonna ruin his party now.”

Yixing scoffs and they walk up to William, who looks at the two men with open curiosity, his eyebrows rising. “Yes, gentlemen?” His gaze lingers half a second longer on Yixing. “How may I help?”

“Detective Inspector Zhang and Detective Sergeant Qian,” Yixing says, flashing his badge and Kun does the same. 

The three women scatter away as soon as the words are out. William laughs, “Aw, detectives, you took all the fun away now!”

Yixing jeers, “I’m sure you will have your fun later.”

William cocks his eyebrows and smirks, “Oh, do you promise me that?”

Kun looks between his partner and the private investigator, wondering why they are both smirking at each other like that. Kun slowly asks, “Wait a minute, do you two know each other?”

William guffaws, “Oh yeah, we do.”

Yixing sighs, pinching his nose, “Okay, enough. Stop being unreasonable and just give us what we want.”

“Oh?” William says, now standing up. “But I have my price.”

Yixing looks at William and expects the glimmer in his eyes, and it is here, as he grins widely. He does look ten times more devilish in his side-shaved hairstyle, fake Reebok t-shirt and even more fake silver chains around his neck. Yixing looks at Kun and sighs, “Okay, we will but first, you answer some questions.”

William shrugs, “Sure, what do you want to know?”

Kun steps in. “So, for the whole of 2016, you were receiving money from Wu Yifan. Did you blackmail him?”

William laughs, “Yeah, yeah I did. But you can’t arrest me for that, he never pressed charges.”

Yixing crosses his arms, “Why were you blackmailing him?”

“Well, his mother had me spying on someone and Wu didn’t want that someone to be exposed, so when she died, I thought of taking my chances and see what Wu could give me.” William pours himself a drink and laughs, “Honestly, I would’ve settled for the one time but he looked paranoid, so I decided to see if I can play him for one year. I mean, I’d found myself a cash cow, why let go?”

Kun puts his hands on hips and frowns, “And you just stopped?”

William raises his hands, jutting his lower lip out, “Well, he’s a powerful man, so of course, I knew I couldn’t play him forever, so I stopped when I realised I shouldn’t push his buttons anymore. Like, you know, you gotta stop at one point when you’re hitting the poker table.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Kun nods.

Yixing glances at Kun, silently telling him to shut up. “Anyway, what and who were you spying on?”

William smirks, “Do you have a warrant for that, detective?”

Yixing knows that smirk all too well, so he sighs, “Kun, go get the DA’s office. I will wait here for you.”

Kun nods, “Okay, on it!”

Kun rushes out; meanwhile, Yixing looks at William, who inches closer, his cockiness obvious on his whole countenance, “So, do you wanna make the wait worth it?”

Yixing grabs William by the t-shirt’s collar and pulled him close. His whispers, “Make it worth my wait then.”

William grabs Yixing’s waist and says, “You know, you didn’t need that warrant.”

“Hmm,” Yixing hums before pulling William down by his nape and kissing his former informant. As William licks into his mouth, Yixing wonders why he ever said yes to this man in the first place. Maybe it was the vulnerability post-divorce, maybe it’s William’s charms, maybe it was a bit of both mixed with alcohol but it has been two years now and it has been on and off between them. Yixing even stopped the informer deal with him, yet here he is.

The kissing moves upstairs to William’s flat. Clothes are shed, so are inhibitions as Yixing lets William pick him apart and then put him back together again. Sometime later, as they lay sweaty and tangled on the bed, Yixing realises he needed to let off some steam. And William was always so good at making him forget. Right now, he lies on his stomach as William kisses down his spine, just barely-there ones, and he smiles, “Stop that, you know I’m ticklish.”

William kisses a line up to his ear and nibbles on his lobe, murmuring, “I’m just thinking, do you want to see?”

Yixing turns around, frowning, “See what?”

William leaves the bed and Yixing sits up. He locates his underwear and shirt and puts them on. He finds William, buck-naked, walk across his open floor apartment and rummage through his desk. William yelps when he finds what he’s looking for and comes back to the bed, dropping a thick folder in Yixing’s lap. He hops on the bed and sits down behind Yixing, his long legs caging Yixing. He says, “So, the late missus Huang sent me on this wild goose chase for almost a whole year, ok maybe not a whole year but she wanted me to spy on her soon-to-be ex-son-in-law.”

“What?” Yixing asks as he opens the folder, going through pictures of a younger Junmyeon drinking coffee, studying in a park, hanging out with friends. Yixing scoffs, “This is slightly disturbing. Are you sure you weren’t just stalking him? I mean, he was cute, still is.”

William playfully bites Yixing on his neck before saying, “Hey, she was paying me big bucks, I have receipts. Anyway, go to the very back, because just two months before Junmyeon left for London, something _very_ interesting happened, the lady almost had a heart attack when I showed her the pictures.”

Yixing takes William’s suggestion and he flips to the back, he finds a whole stack marked with pink sticky notes. He browses through them and what he sees, makes him gape. He looks at William, his eyes widening, “Why is Junmyeon kissing his brother-in-law?”

**July 2012**

Junmyeon looks over all of his things sprawled on the table. He has taken some freelancing jobs before he leaves for London in September. He thought he could do with the extra money, it would help a lot and if he can manage to get this agency to back him up, he can keep working while he’s still there, earn the money, and manage to not fall into eternally broke student category. His parents have promised to support him but he rather not depend on them too much, especially after he moved in with his mother and his stepfather, he feels more of a burden than anything on her. 

He has been here since the morning, since the public library opened at eight in the morning, working on the recent project. It’s not too difficult, he just needs to create the base with JavaScript and then send it across to the third-party developer. But he’s sleepy, tired and his neck hurts. He is about to plant his head on the table when his phone starts ringing. He thinks it could be his mother but the name on the display makes him smile.

Junmyeon smiles, “Hello, gege.”

Yifan chuckles, “Hey, there, are you at the library? Did you have something to eat?”

“No,” Junmyeon pouts and realises he hasn’t eaten for a while now, especially with the measly protein bar he had for breakfast and now he is hungry. “Why?”

“Well, I’m waiting outside, I have a long lunch today, so come out.”

Junmyeon laughs but agrees—he needs the break and some sustenance. He collects his things and tries to walk as fast as he can. Yifan has been doing this for a while now, checking up on him ever since the divorce. The older man would take him to dinner, lunch or the movies—all sponsored by Yifan, of course. And Junmyeon didn't mind, it took his mind off things, of the lingering disappointment and bitterness after the divorce and the impending apprehension of leaving his home. Plus, he also likes the time he spends with Yifan, which he wonders if he should. There is this doubt that he shouldn’t spend any time with his former brother-in-law. 

Yifan is waiting for him outside in his BMW 5, dressed impeccably in his navy blue suit, his dark brown hair slicked back. Junmyeon takes a moment to admire the view for a moment, feeling guilty right afterwards for even doing so. Yifan straightens up when he spots Junmyeon standing at the top of the stairs and he waves, smiling widely at him. Junmyeon climbs down the stairs. Before he can say anything, Yifan grabs his bag and puts in on the backseat. Junmyeon just shakes his head and smiles as Yifan winces, “Holy shit, what do you have in this bag? Rocks?”

“Books, gege, something you have never touched since college,” Junmyeon retorts as he walks around the car to get into the passenger seat. 

“Hey!” Yifan chuckles, “I know I’m old, but I’m not that old! And I read! I just bought Gone Girl to read that day!”

“Whatever you say gege,” Junmyeon singsongs. He straps himself and says, “So, is the book any good? I’m hearing a lot about it.”

“Well, so far, it looks good. I only read the first chapter.”

“So,” Junmyeon pouts, “I will ask for a review after a year.”

Yifan starts the car and sends Junmyeon a look that told the latter just how unimpressed he is. It makes Junmyeon laugh. Yifan shakes his head, “Anyway, what do you want to eat?”

Yifan starts the car and moves along the driveway as Junmyeon thinks. “Hmm, what about noodles? We can go to that place on Wellington Street.”

“Mak’s?”

“Yep!”

The afternoon passes nicely with noodles and Junmyeon eating Yifan’s ear off by talking about his project. They walk along the streets, talking and stopping when they find a dessert shop. Yifan offers Junmyeon financial help again for his duration in London again but as they sit in the park outside the shop, he says, “No, gege, if I never signed a prenup, and never asked for the alimony, then I don’t need you to help me either.”

Yifan shakes his head, scooping up some of the frozen yoghurt in his cup, “No, Junmyeon, listen, London is a very expensive place to live and—” 

Junmyeon waves his wooden spoon in the air, “No, I’ll survive, don’t worry.”

“But—”

Junmyeon lightly swats at Yifan’s arm and says, “No, now shush and enjoy your yoghurt.”

Yifan shuts up, eating his frozen yoghurt quietly after that. He mumbles, “I’m just sorry about what my brother did to you. You could’ve been in London last year itself.” Yifan hears Junmyeon sigh; they have been here before. The last straw for the divorce and Junmyeon completely falling out of love with Zitao was when the latter cancelled his application to Imperial College London behind his back, and Yifan knows all of this.

_“And Meiqi, do me a favour—” Yifan stops when he finds his phone buzzing for the fifth time in the last thirty minutes. He hasn’t checked it, so he finally picks it up from his desk and frowns when he sees it is Junmyeon. He wasn’t the one calling him all this time, was he? He knows Zitao and his husband are having major fights nowadays, especially with Junmyeon wanting to get his masters in software engineering in a college he always wanted to go to. Zitao doesn’t want Junmyeon to go, to leave him alone, while Junmyeon is sure they can make their marriage work long-distance. Honestly, Yifan is with Junmyeon on this, though he hasn’t voiced his opinion. The course is only for two years, and Zitao can always go visit London when he wants. If push comes to shove, Yifan is sure he can manage a transfer Zitao to the UK headquarters and help them with housing. But Zitao is adamant of not leaving his lifestyle in Hong Kong, not even at the cost of the one he loves and his happiness._

_“Meiqi, go ahead with the files, we will talk later,” Yifan says, dismissing his secretary. Junmyeon’s call ends. His secretary leaves him alone and he dials Junmyeon back. The younger picks the call up within the first couple of rings and before Yifan can get a word in sideways, Junmyeon sobs, “Gege.”_

_Yifan is instantly alerted, he sits up straight. Junmyeon has called him many times, weeping, and each time, his heart clenches. How can Zitao make him cry like this? He says, trying to bite back the anxiety in his voice, “Hey, hey, calm down, tell me what it is?”_

_“Gege,” Junmyeon cries, struggling to breathe. “Gege, he cancelled my admission, he mailed the administration behind my back to take back the scholarship, I’m not going to London.”_

_Yifan feels the anger slowly rise inside him: how dare Zitao do that? He knew his brother was selfish but this is too much! “Junmyeon, let me talk to him. We can fix this.”_

_“No, gege, you can’t. He doesn’t listen to you or me.”_

_Junmyeon breaks down into heart wracking sobs that stabs into Yifan’s heart. He whispers, “Let me come see you, where are you? Home?”_

_Junmyeon hiccups, “I, um, I’m in front of your house, actually.” He starts sobbing loudly again, “I didn’t know where to go.”_

_“Stay where you’re,” Yifan says, standing up and getting his keys and things. “I’ll be right there!”_

Junmyeon says, his voice quiet, “Hey, stop it will you?” He leans back against the seat, putting his hand under his head. “Do you only hang out with me because you’re guilty of what he did?”

Yifan swallows because that is a loaded question because he knows how he _truly_ feels for Junmyeon. It goes beyond just trying to absolve the guilt on his brother’s behalf. It has everything to do with this need to always keep Junmyeon smiling, to never hear him cry like that again. It has everything to do with what the smile does to his heart, even though he knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Junmyeon is still the former husband of his half-brother, someone totally off-limits but how can he stop himself when Junmyeon is so smart, so kind and so beautiful. He had been trying to not feel these things but they are always in the back of his mind, always have been.

Junmyeon wonders why Yifan is so quiet, he didn’t ask too complicated a question, did he? He just wanted to know why Yifan does the things he does. He has been wondering ever since he got married to Zitao. Whenever he needed something, Yifan would be there. When he needed comfort to deal with the divorce proceedings, Yifan would call him up and talk to him, distracting him from all the mess in his life. Even now, when he wanted to take a break, Yifan showed up from nowhere and helped him. Deep down, Junmyeon wants to hope there’s something else, even if he shouldn’t hope such things.

Finally, Yifan looks at Junmyeon but he is not smiling and his eyes are filled with an emotion Junmyeon can’t determine. Slowly, Yifan says, “No, not really.”

Junmyeon swallows this time, struggling to understand the weight of the words. But then Yifan raises his hand and gently cups his face, his thumb grazing over Junmyeon’s cheek. Junmyeon inhales, shaking, his heart thudding at the implications because he _understands_ . There _is_ something more than this, more than just the friendship and it terrifies him. He can imagine what the others might think, so he leans back, out of the warmth from Yifan’s hand and gets to his feet. He picks his bag resting by his feet and he says, “I, uh, I have to go.”

Yifan feels the aching emptiness in his heart when Junmyeon rushes out of the park. He knew what would happen if he ever laid bare his heart, he knew, but to watch Junmyeon leave him like that still hurts. 

A day later, as Junmyeon reels from Yifan’s implied confession, he still can’t breathe properly. He is back at the library again but he can’t focus. The code that would make sense to him at normal times, it’s all gibberish to him. He sighs and plants his face on the table. He has to talk to Yifan but talking to Yifan would mean dealing with his own heart, and he can’t do that. 

He concludes his mind is too scattered, so he groans as he packs up his things and decides to go home, make himself something to eat and panic about the deadline later. He is walking to the parking lot to get his bike but he halts when he sees Yifan, leaning against his car, looking at his phone. Junmyeon’s footsteps make Yifan look up and Junmyeon takes a step back, mumbling, “What are you doing here?”

“Junmyeon,” Yifan moves closer. “We need to talk.”

“No,” Junmyeon swallows, shaking his head, his heart thundering in his chest. “No, there’s nothing to talk about.”

Yifan frowns, pleading, “Please Junmyeon, please.”

Junmyeon’s eyes flit to the side, afraid someone might see them. Yifan is too well-known and if someone browses through news archives, they will also know who Junmyeon is, and then his life will go to hell. “You can’t be here.”

Yifan grabs Junmyeon’s elbow, his frowns dissolving and when Junmyeon notes the helplessness in his eyes, he feels it in his heart as well. He just yields as Yifan pulls him closer, and presses his forehead against Junmyeon’s. He whispers, “Please, Myeon.”

Junmyeon closes his eyes, trying to push down the knot in his throat. Yifan nuzzles into the side of Junmyeon’s neck, his lips brushing against the skin as his arms tighten around Junmyeon. “Myeon, just, I, god, I’ve waited for so long.”

Junmyeon feels his heart falling to his knees and they feel weak too because his heart is heavy with his turmoil and he can’t carry it. He puts his hands on Yifan’s arm, squeezing them slightly because he knows how Yifan feels. He nudges at Yifan to look at him as he says, “Gege, we can’t. Think about Zitao, how would he feel?”

Yifan grins, “I can talk to him, he always listens to me.”

Junmyeon scoffs, “Will he?” He cups Yifan’s face, kissing his temple. “And your mother?”

Yifan’s smile drops, his eyes cloud over and Junmyeon can tell Yifan didn’t consider the ex-mother-in-law in this equation. Junmyeon is about to take a step back when Yifan stops him. He looks at Junmyeon, his eyes blazing with determination now as he says, “I can talk to her as well.”

Junmyeon shakes his head, trying to fight the tears prickling behind his eyes. “You can’t.”

“Myeon,” Yifan breathes before he gently presses his lips against Junmyeon’s, who gasps in surprise. “Myeon?” Junmyeon parts his lips and rises on his toes to kiss Yifan, who obliges only too easily. 

It is as wonderful as Junmyeon imagined it. Yifan’s lips are soft, eager and he kisses Junmyeon so gently that his toes curl inside his sneakers. But, they shouldn’t do this. Junmyeon pushes himself away with all the strength he could muster and takes many, many steps back, “We can’t do this, we can’t gege, never mind how much we want it.” He doesn’t wait to hear Yifan’s reply as he turns around and runs towards his motorbike. Yifan doesn’t come after him but he knows he hurt him, but he hurt himself too, running away from a possibility that good.

Junmyeon is alone tonight, his mother and his stepfather have gone on this weekend trip to Lamma Island. It is raining like crazy outside and Junmyeon is pressed against the glass, looking forlornly at the skies. Yifan has called him nonstop for a week since the day in the parking lot. Junmyeon has been too afraid to confront Yifan, and more importantly, he had been too afraid to confront his own feelings—feelings he has been trying to ignore for so long. In fact, he had been dreaming about Yifan too, constantly, about how it would be like to be with Yifan, in every possible way and that definitely scares him more than nightmares.

His phone rings again and he finds it’s Yifan calling _again_. He thinks about ignoring the call but then when he looks out of the window again, he finds a very familiar silver BMW parked outside his apartment complex. The door to the car opens and Yifan steps out into the deluge, phone glued to his ear. Junmyeon’s phone rings again and he picks it up, his voice breathless as he says, “Gege, what are you doing?”

“You have been ignoring me,” Yifan says as he looks up. He smiles when he finds Junmyeon looking down at him. “I want to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Junmyeon sighs. “We, we can’t. You know we can’t.”

“Why not Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon frowns, “Gege, you know why.”

“Junmyeon,” Yifan exhales. “I’ve wanted you for too long.”

Junmyeon bites down on his lip, his heart racing as Yifan’s words make him acknowledge his own feelings. He closes his eyes and breathes for a moment. He presses his head against the glass, thinking, making up his mind. “Come upstairs, you look like a rat. But—”

“Junmyeon—”

“No, gege, listen, if you come upstairs, you have to know, we can’t do this. But this one time, we can because I want to know.”

“You want to know what?”

Junmyeon swallows before he whispers, “I want to know how it would have been if it was you, gege.”

Yifan inhales deeply and he slowly nods his head. Junmyeon sees it and gets up from his seat, pacing a little as he waits. Within minutes, Junmyeon hears the doorbell and his heart rises in his throat. He walks as fast as he can to the door and when he opens it to a Yifan dripping wet on the welcome mat, his white shirt stuck to his chest and his hair falling into his eyes, his lips parted and his chest heaving, as if he ran up the stairs, something inside Junmyeon snaps. He reaches forward at the same time Yifan reaches as well and before Junmyeon can take another breath, Yifan’s lips are on him, hot, soft and demanding. 

Junmyeon sighs into the kiss, all the pent up frustration pouring into the kiss. Yifan backs him up against a wall and shuts the door at the same time. Junmyeon feels Yifan’s fingers threading into his hair, tugging his head as he licks into his mouth and Junmyeon senses his desperation, his need, which matches his own. This had been coming, always hovering around them, an undeniable pull between them.

Junmyeon puts his hand on Yifan’s nape and the other bunches on the back of his wet shirt, pulling taut at the fabric. The kiss gets messier, more urgent and needy. Junmyeon shivers when Yifan’s hand slips under his t-shirt, roaming over the planes of his stomach and chest, then his thumb flicks over his nipple and Junmyeon moans into the kiss. Yifan breaks the kiss but doesn’t stop as his lips trail down the side of Junmyeon’s neck, his teeth grazing over his thudding pulse. 

Yifan sucks a mark into Junmyeon’s neck as he pushes the t-shirt higher. Junmyeon helps Yifan take it all off. Yifan throws it over his shoulder and his mouth leaves wet, hot kisses all down his sternum and each kiss sends heat pooling in his belly. Yifan moves his hand down Junmyeon’s back and over his butt, his large hands slipping under the loose shorts, cupping Junmyeon’s cheek and squeezing on it hard. Junmyeon whimpers, “Ha-ah, ge!”

Yifan looks at Junmyeon, smiling a little as he pulls him, making Junmyeon wrap his legs around his waist. The soft adoration in Yifan’s eyes makes Junmyeon choke a little as the former mutters, “You, you don’t know how much I’ve wanted you.”

Junmyeon feels breathless at the admission. He cups Yifan’s neck and smiles, “Me too, gege, me too.”

Yifan moves in to kiss Junmyeon again and Junmyeon meets him halfway, their lips crashing against each other. Yifan arches into Junmyeon, his crotch brushing against Junmyeon’s, and he groans when he finds how obvious their arousal is. Junmyeon feels too hot, much too hot, it is like molten lava under his skin. His chest brushes against Yifan’s wet shirt and he breaks the kiss to pout at the older man, “This needs to come off.”

Yifan chuckles, “Of course.”

They move towards Junmyeon’s bedroom. Yifan does put him down but they can’t stop kissing each other or bumping into furniture. By the time they get to the bedroom, Yifan has lost his shirt and his pants are unzipped with Junmyeon’s hand stroking over Yifan’s bulge pushing through his briefs. Junmyeon pushes Yifan on the bed, scrambling over him, pulling the pants and underwear down Yifan’s long legs in one move. He wraps his fingers around the base of Yifan’s cock and makes a tight ring with his forefinger and thumb, stroking up and down, reducing Yifan to a mess of moans.

Junmyeon mouths at the tip, and when Yifan looks down at his kiss-swollen lips wrapped around his cock, Yifan groans, “God, come here, I want to kiss you.”

Junmyeon obliges, scurrying up for that kiss. Yifan flips them over mid-kiss and he pushes down the elastic waistband of his shorts. His squeezes the supple flesh in his hands and Junmyeon laughs, “You really like my butt, huh?”

Yifan chuckles against his lips. “Guess I do.”

The shorts join Yifan’s trousers on the floor and Yifan’s hand and mouth feel like they are _everywhere_ at the same time. They are so warm and big and Junmyeon feels so hot, so eager to feel _more._ He gasps, “Gege, you, I need, I need more, please.”

Yifan raises his head and brushes the bangs over Junmyeon’s eyes. Yifan feels his heart twisting when he sees how wrecked Junmyeon already looks, how flushed his cheeks are, how wide his eyes are and he feels a new wave of adoration wash over him. He quietly says, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Junmyeon feels his face heating up some more at the words, and at the tender way Yifan touches his face. He exhales, “Ge…”

“Where’s your lube?” Junmyeon turns his head towards the bedside table. Yifan opens the drawer and finds the bottle. He doesn’t find the other thing he needs, so he asks, “Myeon? Do you have condoms?”

Junmyeon mutters, “Um, I’m clean.”

Yifan smiles, “Okay, so am I.” He plants a kiss on Junmyeon’s temple. “Myeon, if I hurt you in any way, you tell me to stop, okay?”

The gentle touch of Yifan lips on his temple sends warmth flooding his whole body and for once since this started, Junmyeon wants to cry thinking that this is what he stands to lose. But he pushes it down, choosing to focus on the now. He grabs Yifan by his nape and kisses him, tugging at his lower lip and sucking on it. Junmyeon hears the bottle cap opening and he spreads his legs, making space for Yifan. At first, Yifan doesn’t do anything, just traces his rim, rubbing circles over it. It sends shivers up Junmyeon’s spine, but he whines, “Gege!”

Yifan chuckles, kissing down Junmyeon’s chest again, his teeth tugging at one perk nipple. Junmyeon arches his back, groaning. Yifan slips one finger and Junmyeon gasps. Another finger joins and the slow drag along his muscles makes him squeeze his eyes shut and moan. His fingers curl into Yifan’s shoulder, looking to anchor himself at how good it feels, how Yifan steadily pumps his fingers in and out of him.

God, Junmyeon is so tight, Yifan can feel himself getting harder at the thought of sinking into Junmyeon’s heat. He watches how Junmyeon loses himself to the pleasure, his back arching so prettily. He slips in another finger, just to see if Junmyeon can take and he does, moaning loudly when Yifan finds his prostate. Junmyeon licks his lips, parting them, gasping as he says, “Gege, please, I need you inside me.”

And who is Yifan to deny Junmyeon that? He pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the bedsheet. He slathers some lube on his own erect, pulsing member. He pulls Junmyeon by his legs, curling his hand under Junmyeon’s thighs, pulling him down as he pushes up, sinking into the velvety heat. It makes them both moan, the air getting knocked out of their lungs. Yifan groans out Junmyeon’s name and Junmyeon can’t stop mewling, “Gege, oh my god, oh my god…”

“God, Myeon, you are gonna make me cum so hard,” Yifan whispers as he puts his head into the juncture of Junmyeon’s neck and shoulder.

Junmyeon exhales loudly, maybe trying to laugh but he can’t, his breath catches at how overwhelmed he feels with Yifan filling him up like this. He grazes his teeth along Yifan’s shoulder, groaning, “Ge, you have to move sometime today.”

Yifan laughs, “Always so snarky.” He raises his head and grins, “And that’s what I lo—like about you so much.”

Junmyeon feels the iron fist around his heart again at the word Yifan almost lets slip. Yifan doesn’t let them sink in before he kisses Junmyeon and pushes out, only to thrust back in, hard. Yifan picks up the pace, a steady drag of his cock in and out of Junmyeon, so perfectly. Yifan is thick and it inundates Junmyeon every time, but he wants to feel more, more, more. He chants it out loud and Yifan pays heed because, in the next moment, Junmyeon finds himself on his stomach and Yifan pulls him by the waist and thrusts back in without preamble. 

Junmyeon presses his face into the pillow and drools into it as Yifan’s grip tightens and Junmyeon knows he will have bruises and he wants that, as the best reminder. Yifan kisses down his back, sucking marks every now and then, as he pounds into Junmyeon. It feels amazing and Junmyeon can’t stop moaning. Yifan is deeper inside him, fucking into him harder. 

This is better than anything Yifan could ever imagine. Junmyeon is so tight, so hot, so _perfect_. He knows he won’t last too long when Junmyeon starts clenching around him, his body pushing back at every thrust. Yifan feels the knot expanding in his belly, ready to blow up and it does, slowly, the heat singeing his veins as he lets go. Through the last choppy thrusts, Yifan comes inside Junmyeon in long spurts. 

Junmyeon knows Yifan is close when the thrusts get all rough and Yifan grinds into him. He feels the hot cum fill him up and he groans because he is so close too. He winds his hand between his legs and it doesn’t take him too long either to orgasm. He spills into his hand and on the bedsheet, panting.

Yifan slumps over Junmyeon but he moves to his side immediately, afraid he might squish Junmyeon underneath him. Junmyeon lies panting on his stomach as Yifan flops down beside him on his back, heaving to push back the precious air in his lungs. Junmyeon looks at Yifan’s profile, at the sweat beaded at his temple and the flush on his cheeks. He puts his hand over Yifan’s heart that is beating loud and fast. Yifan turns his head to look at Junmyeon and he smiles, “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m good, you?”

Yifan’s smile widens. “Oh, I’m better than okay.” He bites his lip, stays silent for a moment before he says, “Just, can I stay here for a moment longer?”

Yifan’s words bring Junmyeon back to the present, to the reality they will have to face: they can’t have this, this was a one-time thing after all. Junmyeon swallows, and turns to his side, putting his head on Yifan’s shoulder as he mumbles, “Stay as long as you want, gege.”

**July 2019**

Yixing tilts his head to the side, the condescending smile plastered on his face as Junmyeon stares back at him. Junmyeon looks down at the photographs spread out on the table and even though a part of him is disgusted another part is not surprised at all. Hiring a private investigator to spy on Junmyeon is exactly what his former mother-in-law would do. He realises the photographs were taken when Yifan kissed him in the public library’s parking lot. Good thing the private investigator didn’t see what happened in Junmyeon’s bedroom seven days later. At the thought of that, he suddenly feels his face getting too hot.

“So,” the detective says, “You and Yifan, hm?”

Junmyeon presses his lips, “Look, I know it looks bad, but this was the only thing that ever happened between us. There was no affair, nothing.”

Yixing leans back into the chair. They are in the break room of Junmyeon’s office, and Junmyeon wonders what would happen if any of his colleagues walked in on them while pictures of an _almost something_ lies spread out on the table. “Why? Did you want one?”

Junmyeon crosses his arms, glaring, “I think you’re stepping over some lines there, detective.”

Yixing raises his hands and smiles, perhaps genuinely for once, “Okay, okay, sorry. But seriously, you and Yifan—what was the nature of your relationship?”

Junmyeon sighs, rolling his eyes, “There was nothing, okay? We were friends, but I moved to London, and you know Yifan went off to head the Guangzhou headquarters.”

Yixing frowns a little, “But he returned right after his mother’s death, did you pick up where you left off? Maybe, you two did away with Zitao...”

Junmyeon scoffs, feeling slightly insulted and mad, “I’ll have you know that’s preposterous! I would never hurt Tao, and neither would ge. We only met a handful of times after he returned anyway, and every time in a social setting, okay?” He swallows when he remembers the night he met Yifan after the latter returned from Guangzhou. “I have my boundaries and he respects them.”

Yixing nods, though he doesn’t look convinced. “Hm, okay. So, you wouldn't know where he is then?”

Junmyeon scowls, waving his hands, “No, of course not!”

“Okay, I choose to believe you, for now.”

Yixing smiles, but Junmyeon can see through the fakeness, so he just chews the inside of his cheek and shakes his head. He knew this would come back to bite him in the ass one day. 


	3. Third Act: La Réapparition

_It’s not nearly the kind of drunk Junmyeon hopes for, but he's dizzy and his fingers feel funny. He came out to drink with his new colleagues, Lu Han and Minseok, and both men are such heavy drinkers that looking at their alcohol consumption made Junmyeon not drink more. Three more people joined them from the office and it got louder, and the drinks flowed like water, but Junmyeon didn’t feel like indulging much. He finished two beers and was sipping on his neat whiskey when his eyes wander around the small, cosy bar. Minseok and Lu Han are fighting about something silly again so Junmyeon’s attention leaves the table._

_He is about to raise his glass to take a sip when he feels someone’s watching him. He turns his head around and his lips part when he sees Yifan smiling at him from three seats behind him. Before Junmyeon could stop himself, he gets to his feet and starts walking towards Yifan. He hasn’t seen the older in two years (and more). He hasn’t seen or heard from him since_ that _night. The last Junmyeon saw of Yifan was him walking out of his apartment in the morning (and the desperate, breathless kiss). Then, a month later, Junmyeon learns from the news that Wu Yifan was taking charge of the Guangzhou headquarters of their business. Junmyeon always wondered if his rejection drove Yifan to leave him alone completely. Even though it hurt, he understood._

_Junmyeon stands by Yifan’s table, unsure whether he should sit down or not when Yifan says, smiling, “Junmyeon.”_

_Yifan looks different; a bit tired and his bangs are brushed down, unstyled. Junmyeon notices Yifan is in much more casual clothes than usual, but all of this still makes his heart skip beats. He says, “Gege...it, it has been a while.”_

_“Yeah,” Yifan chuckles. “Two and a half years.” He waves his hand, gesturing Junmyeon to sit. “How was London?”_

_Junmyeon sits down, now that he has permission to invade Yifan’s space. “Good, it was good.” He looks at the rather large serving of whiskey by Yifan’s elbow. “How is Guangzhou?”_

_“Not too bad,” Yifan takes a sip of his drink. “I miss the food here a lot though. So, where are you working now?”_

_“Oh, I started at Data Exim IT.”_

_Yifan’s eyes widen and he starts grinning, “Wow, that’s great, that’s really great. I’m so happy to hear that!”_

_Junmyeon grins back, “Thank you gege.” He looks at his clasped hands on his lap, frowning as he remembers, “I, uh, I heard about mama, is it true?”_

_Yifan sighs, “Her cancer?” He rubs his face, before sighing again, “Yeah, yeah it is. I fly in and out of Hong Kong all the time due to her. I can’t trust Zitao with her care.”_

_Junmyeon wants to reach out and comfort him. He wants to erase the line creasing Yifan’s face, he wants to see Yifan’s eye’s look alive again. But all he can offer is, “Gege, I’m sorry to hear that.” It would surprise him that these feeling still linger but it’s not. Junmyeon has known regret and it looks like the man in front of him, and he has known heartbreak and it was nothing like leaving Zitao but more about letting go of something that could have been his forever._

_Yifan gives Junmyeon half a smile. “That’s okay, thanks.” He looks at Junmyeon for a moment before asking, “Your hair looks different, did you colour it?”_

_Junmyeon softly chuckles, rubbing the end of his hair, “Yeah, it was a light brown a while ago.”_

_Yifan’s gaze softens in the way Junmyeon is familiar. “It looks good on you.”_

_Junmyeon mutters, “Thank you.” Suddenly, Minseok shouts his name loudly. Junmyeon turns around and sees Minseok wildly waving at him. He turns to look at Yifan again, “I, uh, I have to go.”_

_Yifan smiles, nodding his head, “Yeah, see you around, I guess.”_

_Junmyeon gets to his feet. “Yeah, bye gege.”_

It has been a day since Yixing barged into his office and reduced his mental peace to smithereens (not that it was very whole in the first place, but). Maybe he’s thinking about that moment again because he is back at the bar with Minseok and Lu Han again. The only new person is their new intern Yukhei, who’s now getting thoroughly terrorised by Lu Han. Minseok just looks at his husband from the sidelines and rolls his eyes. At least, tonight, Junmyeon isn’t the third wheel tonight, especially when they drag him out to go drinking with them every now and then. 

The bar hasn’t changed much in three years as Junmyeon looks around. The red neon lights are the same but the liquor rack behind the counter has had a new coat of paint. He also realises he hasn’t seen Yifan in a year. It was at some company party and Junmyeon only managed to catch a glimpse before Yifan got surrounded with people and cameras. He looks down at his whiskey, which he had been sipping for the last one hour. He may not be in the mood for a night out, so he sits up straight, clears his throat to attract attention and Minseok looks at with a question mark on his face. Junmyeon smiles, “I need to go home, Minseok. I’m tired.”

Minseok looks he wants to disagree but the mental exhaustion must be obvious on his face because he nods. Junmyeon says his goodnights and his luck must be on his side because he finds a cab right outside the bar. He gets inside and heads towards his apartment in Kennedy Town. 

On the journey back, he lies back on the seat and watches the city pass him by. The windows were rolled up and the air conditioner was on. It started raining somewhere between and Junmyeon is forced to think about another rainy night. Did Yifan leave for Guangzhou because his mother forced him too? Should he have not walked away from Yifan when he met him all those years ago? Should he have asked for another chance? If he did, could they have avoided Zitao’s death and Yifan’s absence? 

Junmyeon needs to be honest to himself sometime, he supposes. He knows he still has feelings for Yifan, feelings he refuses to acknowledge. The taxi stops and Junmyeon makes a run for it after paying the fare. He makes it to the front door with minimum damage but he is surprised to find the foyer dark. Did the landlord not fix the electricity? Junmyeon calls, “Mister Tsing?”

“Junmyeon, is that you?” a voice calls back from somewhere on his right.

“Yeah, what happened to the lights?”

“Oh, nothing. The lines on the ground floor and the fourth-floor corridor is out. The lifts are working, don’t worry.”

That’s Junmyeon’s floor; he presses his lips and shakes his head. Well, at least he doesn’t have to take the stairs again. Some minutes later, Junmyeon steps out of the elevator and sighs when he sees the dark hallway. He searches for his phone and looks up for a moment, and gasps. There is a tall shadow resting against his apartment door. Junmyeon takes a step back, his blood turning to ice, suddenly terrified. 

“Junmyeon?” The shadow speaks and there is something very familiar about it. “Junmyeon, it’s me.”

Junmyeon recognizes the voice, and the shape now. He exhales, “ _Yifan_.” Then he marches up and pushes into him, shouting, “What the fuck!”

Yifan grabs Junmyeon’s wrist and says, “Hey, I can explain. Can I come in first? I have been waiting for a while.”

Junmyeon still can’t see his face, but the thudding in his heart lessens a little, he snaps back to his senses and moves to unlock the door to his home. He fumbles for the switch and turns it on. He turns around and sees Yifan squinting under the foyer light. Junmyeon gasps inaudibly as he takes in Yifan’s appearance. The older hasn’t shaved in a while, his cheeks look sunken in and his clothes are wet. Junmyeon immediately focuses on that, saying, “Oh no, you’re all drenched.”

Yifan laughs, running his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, I was without an umbrella.” He walks deeper into the apartment, zeroing in on the ceiling to floor window in the living room. Junmyeon smiles; that was his main objective in getting this apartment. He still has four more instalments to pay, but this is his, and he is so very proud of it. Yifan steps on the ledge by the window and pulls the curtains slightly. He looks back at Junmyeon and says, “Okay, no one followed you.”

Junmyeon frowns, “Huh? Followed me?”

Yifan looks grim. “I’ve been running for almost a month now, but I think I lost them for today.”

Junmyeon closes in, his eyes widening as he gets worried. “Gege, what’re you talking about?” He steps closer to the older man and shakes his head. “Well, now that you’re here, we should go to the police.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and says, “I have detective Zhang’s number on my phone, we can—”

“Zhang Yixing?” Yifan asks, his scowl deepening. “No, we can’t go to him.”

“Why not?”

Yifan’s jaw hardens and his eyes glint with madness as he says, “He’s the one who killed Zitao.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ba dum tss~


	4. Fourth Act: Cachant À La Vue

“What,” Junmyeon wheezes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Yifan rubs his face, groaning, “It’s a long story but believe me, I’m not lying.”

Junmyeon is confused, he shakes his head, whisper-shouting, “What do you mean a cop killed Zitao? Why would a cop kill Zitao!”

Yifan flops down on the couch and sighs, “It’s a long story, Myeon.”

Junmyeon tries to ignore how his heart pounds a little bit harder at the nickname. He takes a deep breath and says, “You have to explain, ge.”

Yifan looks up, smiling, “I want to.” He looks around, “Would you have spare clothes? I need a shower, and,” he scratches his stubble, “A shave.”

Junmyeon chews his lips, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, I might have something that could fit you.” He is about to walk towards his bedroom when he stops and says, “You’ll tell me, right?”

“Yes,” Yifan whispers.

They share a look and Junmyeon somehow knows Yifan isn’t lying. His heart clenches in worry as he turns away, walking to his room. As he rummages through his clothes, he also comes to realise another thing: he doesn’t have a guest room. He looks at his unkempt bed and he panics a bit. The bed is big enough and Junmyeon can’t let Yifan sleep on the couch—the man is too tall for the couch.

He hears the door to his bathroom open and close, and the shower is turned on. Junmyeon paces in the living room as Yifan takes his sweet time to shower. When the water stops, Junmyeon goes up to the bathroom door and suddenly realises this is a bad idea because Yifan could very well be naked and he doesn’t want to see a naked Yifan right now. He looks down at the clothes and realises he does need to give it to Yifan because he also doesn’t want a naked Yifan in his apartment. 

He knocks on the door and Yifan opens it, a towel around his waist and shaving foam on his cheeks. Yifan smiles, “I found a new, unopened razor, I hope you don’t mind.”

Junmyeon shakes his head, smiling, “No, no it’s okay, ge.” He hands the clothes, “Here.”

“Can you put it somewhere?”

Yifan moves back to the basin while Junmyeon walks inside, the scent of his bergamot shower gel wafting through the small space. He puts the clothes on the window ledge and is about to step back outside when his eyes land on a wound on Yifan’s torso. 

Yifan sees Junmyeon staring at the wound in the reflection, so he cleans his face and says, “That is thanks to the detective.”

Junmyeon gasps a little as he steps closer, his eyes widening, the fear gripping him tight for a moment. “What do you mean? He hurt you?”

Yifan twists his body around and smiles, “I’ll tell you everything you need to know, Myeon.”

Junmyeon swallows, nodding. He steps back outside and heads for the kitchen. Yifan probably is hungry and he can probably make something. He opens his refrigerator and finds enough things to make a quick, bootleg bibimbap. He just finished wilting some pak choy when Yifan comes out of the bathroom, fully dressed and clean-shaven. Junmyeon kind of forgets what he’s doing when Yifan walks into the kitchen, his hand rubbing the towel into his hair and the t-shirt pulls up, showing a sliver of skin, and Junmyeon knows he is ogling but he has almost forgotten what Yifan’s very presence does to him. It definitely still unnerves him, sends heat flare all over his body and his mind wandering into precarious places. 

He forces his eyes away and mutters, “Uh, I made some bibimbap. I know you like spinach with yours but I don’t have any. And I also didn’t have any beef, so I hope chicken is okay, though you don’t like that very much yet—”

Yifan comes close and wraps his hand around Junmyeon’s wrist, halting the rambling. He tilts his head down and smiles, “Myeon, I’ll eat just about anything right now.” 

Junmyeon bites down on his lower lip, his eyes flitting to Yifan’s lips. “Well, good thing you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m.” Yifan lets go off his hand and sits down by the counter. Junmyeon puts down the bowl, finishes frying the egg and puts a glass of water in front of Yifan. He keeps standing as Yifan mixes everything in his bowl and he is two huge spoonfuls in before he notices Junmyeon awkwardly hovering around him. He asks, “Myeon?”

Junmyeon is having a trip down memory lane, thinking back to the nights Yifan would come over because he couldn’t convince Zitao to return home after a fight and he would feel guilty about his brother and Junmyeon never let him leave without dinner. And Yifan loved eating whatever Korean dish he would whip up and Junmyeon often wondered if the compliments were even real, so he leans on the counter and asks, “Just thinking, you always said I was a good cook, but I always wondered if you were even telling the truth because I only started cooking when I started missing the food back home.”

Yifan chuckles, “Well, in the very beginning, I’ve to say the food was sweeter than I expected.”

Junmyeon blushes, “Well, I was used to that but then I realised that living in Hong Kong for so long had changed my taste buds, so I stopped adding that extra spoon of sugar.”

“I loved it, seriously, it was different and it was good,” Yifan grins.

Junmyeon lets Yifan finish his food, which he does surprisingly fast and it makes him wonder how long had Yifan spent not eating proper food. He also gulps down the water in record speed and Junmyeon pours him another glass. Yifan wipes his mouth and says, “You won’t eat?”

“I had dinner with my friends,” Junmyeon shrugs. He starts thinking about the sleeping arrangement again. “Uh, you probably want to rest, so, the bedroom’s that way.”

Yifan shakes his head. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Junmyeon raises an eyebrow. “Gege, you’re eight feet tall and the couch is too small.”

Yifan chuckles as he gets up, collecting the bowl and glass. He puts them in the sink and is about to wash them when Junmyeon protests, “Ge!”

Yifan says, “Hey, I’m wearing your clothes and I’m eating your food, and dragging you into this mess. This is the least I can do.”

Junmyeon steps back and leans against the counter as he looks at Yifan washing the dishes. “What mess did you two get into ge?”

Moments later, they move to the bedroom, seated atop the bed with Yifan’s back turned to the window as he starts, “So, after mama died, Zitao felt awful, about himself, about me, even about you. Something changed inside him, so he started to focus more on the company, working harder than I had ever seen him before. A year ago, we were going to merge with this company but a few weeks before the merger, we heard rumours that this company was doing underhand negotiations with the triad.”

“The triad?” Junmyeon cries and almost falls off the bed. 

Yifan nods. “It were just rumours, but we had to be sure, so Zitao decided to investigate.” He rubs his face, sighing, “I told him to not but he was so sure he could do this, I didn’t stop him. He soon collected information that was damning. The company was working with the mafia, a particular faction that was the puppet master, using the company for money laundering.”

“That’s dangerous,” Junmyeon gasps.

“Exactly, we couldn’t be associated with them, so Tao wanted to expose them. But he noticed how every mishap was getting covered by the police, especially one particular police officer. Tao caught a glimpse of him at some bar, so he decided to go again and collect better evidence. I tried to stop him but when I couldn’t, I decided to accompany him.

“So, we went to the bar again and we found the cop, we saw his face, Zhang Yixing’s face. And he saw us. He took us to the back and a fight broke out. Tao tried his best and I tried to help, but he knocked me out, and when I,” Yifan chokes, trying to not cry. “I woke up, Tao was gone.”

Junmyeon claps a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. “Did he come after you then?”

“He did,” Yifan sighs. “One day, I walked into my apartment and Yixing was waiting, he shot me but a neighbour heard the scuffle and came calling, so I was saved for the day.” He touches his wound, “So, I started running. I was changing motels but I started to run out of cash and I couldn’t risk using my cards.”

Junmyeon mutters, “You can stay here.”

“I can’t,” Yifan shakes his head. “I can’t stay here and get you into trouble as well. Yixing will put his men after you and if he starts tailing you, you will get him straight to me before I can find enough evidence. I know where Tao kept it,” he groans, “I just need to get to it.”

“Let me help you then, ge.”

“You, you can’t,” Yifan shakes his head. “It’d be too much trouble for you. He can even kill you.”

Junmyeon objects, “No! He could kill you too and I don’t want that!”

Yifan leans forward and cups Junmyeon’s face, trying to calm the latter down. “Myeon, listen to me—”

Junmyeon pushes Yifan’s hands away and shakes his head. “Absolutely not, I’m not losing you all over again!”

The words bring down a lull between them and Yifan widens his eyes. Junmyeon bows his head and shuffles away. He mumbles, “Just, rest. We will talk about this tomorrow.” He doesn’t want to talk anymore, he can’t just spurt out all his feelings right now, they don’t need it. Junmyeon lies down and pulls the blanket over his head. He did pull out a separate blanket for Yifan, so he hears Yifan lie down as well, shuffling under the blanket. 

Maybe it is after thirty minutes or so, Yifan says, “I never wanted to disappear. I had to go away to Guangzhou.”

Junmyeon bites down on his lip, fully aware of his turmoil right now, especially with Yifan so close to him—so close enough to make a mistake. He mumbles, “I know why you left, DI Zhang showed me the pictures this private investigator took.”

Yifan chuckles, sounding bitter, “Right, that slimeball named William took them, showed up after mama died, and blackmailed me for a year.”

Junmyeon turns around, facing Yifan. “Blackmail?”

Yifan was staring at the ceiling, so he looks at Junmyeon, sighing, “Yeah. I was worried about what it would do to you if the pictures got out.” 

Junmyeon scoffs, “Thanks for that, I suppose.”

Yifan touches Junmyeon’s cheek again and whispers, “I just wanted to protect you, still do.”

Junmyeon’s heart melts at the emotions Yifan bares on his face. This is dangerous territory again. Junmyeon turns around again and mumbles, “Just sleep, we’ll talk about this later.”

Yifan is the first to wake in the morning, and he wakes up to sunlight flooding the room and something warm and soft nestled close to him. Somewhere in the night, Junmyeon and Yifan must have moved closer to each other. Junmyeon is curled against his side, his head pressed against Yifan’s arm and Yifan can’t help but smile. He decides to take his chances and turns to his side, seeing if he can put his arms around Junmyeon. It works and Junmyeon just curls into his chest his hand fisting on Yifan’s chest, and Yifan’s whole heart softens. 

Oh, how he has dreamed of holding Junmyeon like this. For years, he had to watch from afar when Junmyeon was at his lowest, when all he wanted was to hold him, soothe him, kiss those tears away. Even with the one night he got, he never stopped wanting more. He would have gone back to convince Junmyeon once again but his mother showed up in his office with the pictures from the parking lot and threatened to ruin Junmyeon’s life if he didn’t stop meeting his former brother-in-law. Yifan had to yield, he couldn’t let his mother and her misplaced anger get to Junmyeon.

So he left and didn’t look back, no matter how much he wanted to pick up the phone and dial for Junmyeon. When he met Junmyeon again in the bar years later, he wanted to go after Junmyeon, wanted to ask for another chance but then his mother died and William showed up, and he started to wonder if his love for Junmyeon was cursed.

He nuzzles into Junmyeon’s hair and smiles when the latter rubs his head on his chest, grumbling a little. Yifan feels the love and adoration he feels expanding inside him. He wants a life with Junmyeon so much but he’s so afraid to ask. He has never loved anyone like this, probably never will and that is why all his relationships are empty and short-term—none of them will be anything like Junmyeon.

Junmyeon is soft, but he is also so strong, so determined. And he deserved so much better than what happened with Zitao. Yifan knows he stepped over a lot of limits when he started to fall for Junmyeon but he couldn’t stop himself. Even now, he wonders how many limits he is overstepping now by dragging Junmyeon into this mess. 

Junmyeon stirs and Yifan quickly closes his eyes, pretending to sleep. Junmyeon wakes up and groans, and mumbles, “Oh, fuck.” Yifan tries hard to not laugh. Junmyeon tries to slither out of Yifan’s arms but Yifan just tightens his hold and opens one eye, chuckling, “Trying to escape, Myeon?”

Junmyeon gasps, “You’re awake!”

“I am,” Yifan grins down at a sleepy Junmyeon with his swollen cheeks and scrunched up eyes and he just wants to spill everything inside his heart.

Junmyeon pushes at Yifan’s chest and sits up, grumbling, “Very funny.” He gets down from the bed and shuffles out of the room. Yifan chuckles to himself as he puts a hand over his heart. How does one person have so much hold over someone? Honestly, Yifan doesn’t want to know.

In the kitchen, as Junmyeon waits for the water to boil, he palms his face and groans. How did he even end up in Yifan’s arms, and why didn’t he push him away? He smiles a little because it wasn’t so awful waking up in Yifan’s arms. The kettle boils and Junmyeon snaps back to the real world and grabs his cup and tea bag. He hears shuffling behind him as he pours himself a cup of tea. 

Yifan leans against the counter and says, “So.”

“So?” Junmyeon mutters. He dips his tea bag into the hot water and says, “I’ll go to work, you will stay here and you will tell me how to get to this evidence Tao had.”

Yifan was yawning through the first few words so Junmyeon’s suggestion makes him choke on air and he widens his eyes at Junmyeon, who is calmly sipping his beverage. Yifan splutters, “No! I can’t ask you to do that!”

Junmyeon raises an eyebrow at him. “What? Yixing doesn’t know you are here and he doesn’t know I know, so, who else but me?”

Yifan sighs; he sees sense in Junmyeon’s words, so he grudgingly nods and says, “Fine, I’ll tell you.”

Junmyeon stands in front of the building with rising anxiety. He has been hyper-paranoid since he stepped out of his house, even though he was the picture of bravado in front of Yifan. Zhang Yixing could get to him easily, he probably is watching him right now but what choice does Junmyeon have? He has to do to this, for Yifan and for Zitao.

The Wu-Huang & Company had grown a lot over the years. They shifted to their newest building that is seventy floors high and Junmyeon wonders why would anyone even need seventy floors in the first place but that is beside the point. He needs to get to Zitao’s office, find the secret compartment in his office and run back to Yifan and then go with him to the DA’s office. Junmyeon did raise the query that Yixing might have gotten to it but Yifan assured him that the detective possibly couldn’t. Junmyeon is going to find out why soon as the elevator ascends and the piece of paper in his jacket pocket grounds him.

He knows he will attract attention walking into Zitao’s office just like that but he had a plan. He has to play the bereaved (ex) husband. Yes, they are divorced but Junmyeon can be convincing. The doors open to Zitao’s office floor and he is kind of surprised to find it empty—well, not entirely. Last night, they made the news of his death public, so everybody is probably taking the day off, grieving. Yifan was right to plan it today, Junmyeon exhales in relief. 

However, Junmyeon saw wrong because as he steps closer to the office marked by Zitao’s name, a soft voice calls for him, “Excuse me?”

Junmyeon turns around and finds a short, young woman staring at him with wide eyes. She is dressed formally in a skirt suit, so he assumes she has to be an employee. He says, “I, uh, I just came to,” he takes a deep breath, forcing some tears to come up, “I just wanted to see his office, I guess.”

“Oh!” the woman touches her chin. “You must be a friend of our boss?”

Oh, how fickle public memory is, Junmyeon scoffs mentally. He scratches his head and smiles, “Ex-husband, actually.”

The woman gasps and gapes for a moment before collecting herself and nodding, “Of course, our boss _was_ married a long time ago.” She bows, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t recognize you.”

Junmyeon waves his hand. “Oh no, no, don’t apologize. I don’t think he kept any pictures of me around.” He laughs, “I mean, why would he?”

The woman looks like she rather run away than answer that question, instead, she says, “You can go ahead if you want. Just call me if you need anything.”

Junmyeon bows his head. “Thank you.” Even though he wants to get to the office quickly and get out just as fast, he refrains and takes slow, heavy steps towards the office. He opens the door and he smirks when he looks at the interiors. It’s all dark grey and white with accents of gold here and there, and Junmyeon smiles when he realises how hard Zitao tried to maintain his aesthetic while conforming to everyone else’s. Junmyeon knew Zitao didn’t like dull shades, he knew Zitao liked his gold chains and earrings. To see this office space makes him wonder how far Zitao matured and why did he never apologize to him. 

Junmyeon shakes his head; he is not here to ruminate about his failed marriage, he is here to collect the proof of Yixing’s crimes. He pulls out the piece of paper from his pocket and reads the instructions again. There are shelves behind the desk stuffed with some showpieces, files and other knickknacks. He walks up to the first shelf, steps to the right and touches the bottom of the second shelf. Yifan wrote that he had to move three inches from the very corner and he will find a slight indentation on the wood. Junmyeon almost yelps when he finds the small, barely noticeable groove. He presses onto it and the space between the first and second shelf opens up. 

Junmyeon grins, shoving the paper back into his pocket as he puts his hand inside the dark cavern. His fingers brush over a few things, which makes him frown because Yifan said there would only one plastic Pendrive—and it is there—but with his touch, he thinks there is an envelope or sheet of some kind and a velvet box. He grabs everything anyway and puts it all on his messenger bag. He closes the secret panel by pushing on the groove and watches in awe at the opening closing so seamlessly that he can’t even make out the partition with his naked eye. 

He walks around the desk and is about to head out when the door opens to a woman shouting, “And what are _you_ doing here?”

Junmyeon frowns; the woman is dressed in branded clothes and maybe looks kind of familiar to him, but he can’t place her, so he blurts out, “Excuse me? Do I know you?”

“Do you know me?” the woman shrieks. “Gold digging housewrecker, how dare you not know me?” She places a hand on her chest—her left hand with the giant diamond glinting at Junmyeon’s face—and scoffs, “I’m Zitao’s fiance, Lu Chunhua.”

Junmyeon gasps, nodding his head. He did hear about some tabloid rumour about Zitao marrying again and frankly, he forgot because the columnist named him and he spent half the day worrying someone at work might see it. And now that he recalls that annoying article, he remembers she is some socialite-turned-entrepreneur-cum-social influencer person. Junmyeon, however, politely bows and smiles, “I just came here to pay my respects. Like it or not, miss Lu, I _was_ married to him first.” Chunhua gapes at his response, her perfectly pencilled brows scrunching as she looks for an answer. Meanwhile, Junmyeon takes a bow and makes a run for it. 

He punches the button for the elevator, which comes up to him in a second and he doesn’t breathe till he reaches the ground floor. That was close; if she had seen him rummaging through the secret panel, he’d be dead. Metaphorically, at least.

Junmyeon stands outside under the cloudy morning, trying to make his heart return to its normal pace. Yifan strictly told him to not come back home, but go to work. Junmyeon understood that Yifan was worried he might be followed but Junmyeon _knows_ he can’t work a whole day without panicking about the things in his bag. He takes a deep breath, reminds himself he can totally do it and steps on the curb to hail a cab.

An hour later, he’s at work and since the news of the death was out, and most people in his office knew, they crowd around him, saying their condolences. He even gets a few hugs, a couple of pats and even his boss comes to his office telling him he can take some time off if he wants (honestly, _that_ is tempting). Junmyeon does try to work but his eyes flit to his messenger bag lying innocently in the bin he keeps by his desk and he groans. 

Three hours and zero productivity later, his assistant knocks and pokes her head inside, “Sir?”

Junmyeon looks up from his blank screen, “Yes?”

She whispers, “That detective is here to meet you. I think he came here before?”

Junmyeon feels his heart knocking hard against his bone. He blinks for a moment. “Yuqi, take him to the meeting room, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay!”

Junmyeon swallows, he wipes the cold sweat beading on his nape and takes a couple of deep, deep breaths. He can do this. He totally can.

Yixing is waiting, peering at the floral arrangement on the table when Junmyeon opens the door. Yixing looks up and smiles, “Hey, I had an interesting call from your ex’s current fiance.”

Junmyeon trembles deep inside. There is something different about Yixing today. His eyes aren’t amused and his smile isn’t pleasant. When Junmyeon remembers the man in front of him killed someone, he suddenly fears for his life. But he can’t run away—he has to protect Yifan at all costs. 

So, with shaky knees and a racing heart, Junmyeon sits down opposite Yixing and says, “Detective Inspector, I just felt, well, nostalgic, sad. I stayed up all night thinking why Zitao never apologised for the things he did. I just went to see his office because I don’t think I’m allowed in his home.”

Yixing smiles a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I understand.” Then he leans forward and asks, “By the way, did Wu Yifan try to contact you?”

Junmyeon can feel the sweat blooming on his nape again. He shakes his head, frowning, “Why would he contact me?”

“Well, you—”

“That was one time, detective!” Junmyeon says loudly. “You can’t come in here and insinuate such things! I’ve to hear enough insults about me, my class and theirs every day, I do not need this.”

Yixing nods, sighing, as if he understands. He gets to his feet and says, “Well, apologies mister Kim.” He then looks straight at Junmyeon and all congeniality from his face drops. “I will have to say, if you ever lie to me, there will be consequences. We’re treating Yifan as the primary suspect, and if you know something and trying to cover for him, you’ll be prosecuted as an accessory to murder.”

Junmyeon frowns, “Noted.” He too gets up and says, “Now, if there’s nothing else, I need to go back to work.” Yixing nods again and leaves the room first. Junmyeon waits for a moment before rushing back to his office. He locks the door and plops down on his chair, his hands curled into his hair. Oh, god, they are fucked—Yixing _knows._

He is shivering and muttering under his breath when someone knocks on his door. Junmyeon jumps at the noise and says, his voice shaking, “Who, who is it?”

“It’s me,” Lu Han says.

Junmyeon drags himself to his feet and unlocks the door. Lu Han steps in and his eyes are full of concern as he says, “So, why was that policeman here again?”

Junmyeon laughs, “More questions, what else?”

Lu Han chuckles, “You didn’t kill your ex-husband now, did you?”

Junmyeon narrows his eyes and swats at Lu Han’s shoulder, “Yeah, right.”

They sit down on the couch and Lu Han looks at Junmyeon for some moments. He frowns, “You know what, you look awful. You should take a break, grab those off days the boss promised and just go somewhere.”

“I, I can’t ge,” Junmyeon mutters.

Lu Han widens his eyes, “Why? Did the policeman tell you not to leave the city or something?”

Junmyeon snickers, “Yeah, something like that.” 

Lu Han pats Junmyeon’s shoulder and says, “Listen, just because you’re my favourite, I have an idea.” Junmyeon turns his head to look at him. “Our villa at Telegraph Bay is lying empty anyway, why don’t you just go there? You will get a nice view of the sea and technically, you’ll still be within city limits!”

Junmyeon widens his eyes as an idea forms in his head. He knows about the villa Lu Han and Minseok bought in Residence Bel-Air last year and he realises that this could be the perfect hiding place for him and Yifan. He nods, clasping Lu Han’s hands, “Gege, thank you so much!”

Lu Han is slightly confused by Junmyeon’s reaction but he nods, “Alright, it’s done. I will ask Minseok to drop the key at the office when he comes to pick me up.” He ruffles Junmyeon’s hair, “You look like you need a break anyway. Minseok told me how upset you were,” he presses Junmyeon’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, gege, thank you.”

Lu Han leaves Junmyeon alone and the latter quickly types the mail for a leave, which gets approved within an hour. Minseok shows up before office hours end and drops the keys on Junmyeon’s desk. Minseok and Lu Han hug Junmyeon, tell him to take care and he leaves for the day. 

When he gets back home, he finds Yifan spread out on the window ledge, reading. The curtains are pulled over the windows and Junmyeon clicks his tongue, “Did you spend all morning like the poor man in the Rear Window?”

Yifan looks up from his book and mutters, “Listen, it’s not like I had anything to do.”

Junmyeon smiles as he takes off his things and brings the bag over to Yifan. He plops down on the floor and puts the three things on the marble tiles. Yifan sits up straight and grabs the Pendrive. He asks, “Your laptop?”

Junmyeon heads for his bedroom, he grabs his laptop and rushes back to Yifan. He finds the velvet jewellery box and letter in Yifan’s hands. He sits back down again and asks, “What are those?”

Yifan quietly says, “I think they are for you.”

Junmyeon frowns, “For me?” Yifan hands him the envelope and box, the latter of which he opens and he gasps. He recognizes the silver bands too well. It is his and Zitao’s wedding rings. His eyes suddenly prickle with tears and his hands shake when he reads the small print of his name on the envelope. He opens it and a letter falls out. He picks it up and starts reading.

_Dear Junmyeon,_

_If you’re reading this, I might be dead. I told gege that if something ever happens to me, he will find what he needs. And he will find my last words to you._

_I regret not apologising. I regret our marriage didn’t work. I regret I hurt you, so much. I regret so many things but I don’t regret all the happiness we had. I am sorry I was so awful to you. If I could turn back time, I’d take back everything I did and said. You were my best friend and I lost you because I was an idiot._

_Gege cares about you a lot. When I’m gone, tell him to not be a coward and do what his heart says. As for you, maybe we will meet again where the red moon touches the purple sky and the stars dance down on our heads._

_Yours truly,_

_Zitao_

The tears flow and Junmyeon has to blink them away so he can see again. Yifan moves towards him and pulls him into his arms. Junmyeon tucks his face into Yifan’s shoulder and says, “He had changed so much, hadn’t he? I wish he could have told all this to me to my face.”

Yifan rubs Junmyeon’s back and mutters, “He wanted to see you, you know. But he couldn’t.”

Junmyeon pulls back, sniffling, “Let me guess, his fiance?”

Yifan frowns, “Wait, you know? We never even gave the official announcement.”

“Don’t worry,” Junmyeon mumbles. “We met today at his office.”

Yifan frown deepens, “You…” he looks down at Junmyeon’s laptop. “She didn’t create a scene, did she?”

Junmyeon swallows, rubbing his face. “She did, and the detective paid me a visit.”

Yifan curses, “Fuck, fuck, I knew I couldn’t drag you into this!”

Junmyeon quickly grabs Yifan’s hand and with his free hand, he grabs the keys to Lu Han and Minseok’s house from his bag. He waves it in front of Yifan’s face and says, “Don’t worry. I’ve found a way.”

Obviously, they leave under the cover of the dark. Junmyeon informs only his friends and starts driving towards Telegraph Bay. Victoria Road is blessedly empty at two in the morning and Junmyeon knows they will get there under twelve minutes if they are lucky. Yifan is in the backseat with the laptop on his lap. He is going through the files saved on the Pendrive when he suddenly cries, “Fuck!”

Junmyeon jerks and the car almost skids on the sidewalk. He says, “What?”

“This Pendrive doesn’t contain the full info! Zitao kept the other half somewhere else!”

Junmyeon nearly shouts, “What do you mean? You can’t use this?”

Yifan groans, “No, no we fucking cannot!”

Junmyeon closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and curses in Korean, “Oh, fuck my life.”


	5. Final Act: Justice

Junmyeon opens the door to find Yifan slumped over the kitchen counter, glaring at Junmyeon’s laptop screen. Junmyeon presses his lips and shakes his head. He takes off his shoes and steps inside, saying, “Okay, I got lunch, now stop being such a grumpy cat.”

Yifan looks over his shoulder and mutters, “How can I help my brother with this?”

Junmyeon sighs; they went straight to bed (in separate rooms this time) and slept through the morning and only woke up around eleven or twelve. Junmyeon woke up first, so he was browsing through the files on the Pendrive and he was stumped at what he was seeing. Emails, screenshots of chats, call lists and balance sheets all pointing to gaping discrepancies and truly damning evidence. But none of them points towards police involvement. With this Yifan can go to the DA and get the company shut down forever and its CEO will head straight to jail but it won’t send Yixing to jail, and Junmyeon understands why Yifan is so upset. He wants to avenge his brother.

Junmyeon puts down the packets of food on the dining table and returns to Yifan. He wraps his hands around Yifan and puts his head on Yifan’s shoulder. He murmurs, “Ge, we will figure it out. We have some time on our hands.”

Yifan sighs and Junmyeon unwraps his hands but the former grabs his wrist and pulls him into his chest. Yifan whispers, “I wasn’t done.” Junmyeon supposes these are special circumstances, so he allows Yifan to hold him in his arms, hold him so close that he can feel Yifan’s heart beating against his chest. “Is it wrong that I’m totally enjoying this when I shouldn’t?”

Junmyeon smiles wryly—he knows how that feels and he knows what Yifan means. The closeness they crave is only too obvious. He puts his chin on Yifan’s shoulder and says, “There are way too many wrong things.”

Yifan leans back and says, “But they all feel so right.”

Junmyeon bows his head, his eyes moving away from Yifan’s face and his hopeful eyes as he whispers, “Does it?” He can sense his emotions rushing to the top, all those feelings he doesn’t like to think about. He splays his hands on Yifan’s chest and says in the same low, tight voice, “Is it okay that I would think more about you than Zitao in the last few years?”

Yifan curls his fingers under Junmyeon’s chin and forces the latter to look at him. Yifan’s breath catches when he sees those eyes glistening with unshed tears. He says, “Myeon, I love you, I have always loved you.”

Yifan doesn’t know where he found the courage to say it out loud but he knew he couldn’t hold it back anymore. Does his heart feel lighter? Not nearly but something lifts off his soul and when he sees the first tear roll down Junmyeon’s cheek, he catches it with his lips and mumbles, “You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted to tell you, in case, you know, someone gets to me.”

Junmyeon gasps and he fists his hand. He says, “That is _not_ happening!” He steps out of Yifan’s embrace and rubs his face. “No, we will look harder, but first lunch.”

Junmyeon drags Yifan outside after lunch for some fresh air and has him put on a face mask in case someone recognises him. They go for a walk on the bound pathway by the shore and come back before sunset. They also hold hands and Junmyeon _swears_ he felt no butterflies in his stomach (he is lying, and with the confession added to the mix, Junmyeon probably felt the whole fucking zoo in his stomach). Junmyeon knows how stressed Yifan is and how he is thinking hard about other hiding places Zitao could prefer. Junmyeon did mention their homes, but Yifan said he had already checked both his apartment and Zitao’s apartment many times. 

Junmyeon is making some tea when Yifan walks out of his bedroom with Zitao’s letter in hand. He is shaking and his eyes are wide as he says, “Junmyeon, I think Zitao left a clue in the letter.” 

Junmyeon frowns as he comes closer. Yifan hands him the letter and says, “This part, maybe we will meet again where the red moon touches the purple sky and the stars dance down on our heads. Does it ring a bell for you? Do you think he’s talking about a place only you two might know?”

Junmyeon reads and re-reads the line. He shakes his head, “No, ge—” Wait a minute, a red moon and a purple sky? Junmyeon closes his eyes and for some reason, he can see a picture in his mind of a violent purple sky, a vermillion crooked moon and so many gold stars. He gasps, looking at Yifan, “Gege, I know where this is…”

  


Junmyeon is gone. He’s not at work, nor is he at his apartment. Yixing is getting anxious—he knew Yifan had contacted Junmyeon. He doesn’t know the nature of their relationship nor does he care but now he has to think of hitting two birds with one stone. He can’t kill Yifan and let Junmyeon live. 

He sighs as he leans back in his chair. The cup of coffee that he shouldn’t be drinking at eleven in the night cools on his desk, which is perpetually lost under paper. More and more paperwork and everything he does for this city and what does he get in return? A measly salary and an even measlier pension when he retires. Is it his fault that he wants more? So what if he helps the triad cover their mistakes or help Sun Lei Limited with all their under-the-table negotiations? It brings him money—money that he is saving so he doesn’t die in poverty when he leaves the force. 

But then that brat Huang Zitao got too close and found about his involvement through sheer luck. He shouldn’t have gone to the same bar thrice but he got too comfortable and Zitao saw him. Yifan saw him as well but Yixing didn’t mean to kill Zitao with his own hands. How was he to know that the brat knew wushu? So, of course, Yixing had to defend himself. Maybe he got a bit too forceful, but it had to be done. Also, he knew the body would be discovered eventually—you can’t hide someone as famous as Huang Zitao forever.

The only loose end was Wu Yifan. Yixing almost got him too but the damned neighbour heard the coffee table shatter due to the bullet and he had to leave. He only managed to graze Yifan, who went missing right after. Yixing tried to look, even asked William to hand him some of his men but Yifan was nowhere to be found. Now, Junmyeon is missing and Yixing knows he must he with Yifan. Especially after the complaint lodged by Chunhua. Yixing had this doubt nagging at him for some days. If Yifan hasn’t exposed him, it means Zitao kept the evidence somewhere and if Junmyeon was at the office yesterday, it obviously means Junmyeon went there to collect this evidence. But Yixing is still here, which means either Junmyeon didn’t find what he was looking for or there’s more. 

Yixing gnashes his teeth and slams his fist on the table. He will get them both, he swears. Suddenly, his phone starts ringing and Yixing realises it’s his other phone that is ringing. He picks it up and the person on the other end informs him, “Sir, we saw Kim’s car leaving Telegraph Bay. Should we follow them?”

Yixing sits up straight, excitement buzzing through his whole body. “Of course! Tell me when they stop and where they stop!” 

“On it, boss.”

The call drops and Yixing grins—tonight, all of this ends.

They waited till the night deepened before heading towards the college Zitao and Junmyeon attended. Junmyeon finally remembered there was a wall mural where they would often meet (to make out mostly because it was at the back, under some trees, so it was nicely shaded to escape the heat and not a lot of people came there) that had this surreal painting of a purple sky streaked with green clouds, a red moon and sprinkled with stars. Zitao used to make fun of it a lot, but Junmyeon liked it. Yifan also asked Junmyeon to leave his phone behind at the villa, just in case Yixing is tracking him. Junmyeon does as asked, but when Yifan was preparing to get going, he went shopping. He needed to be sure they make out of this alive. They have been hiding for two days, if Yixing sees them in the open, Junmyeon isn’t sure what will happen.

The roads are still kind of crowded for this time of the night but what else can Junmyeon expect. He hopes the college is empty at this hour. He isn’t sure how they will be getting inside but he needs the space to be devoid of people. The ride is mostly silent but then Yifan says, “You know, he was late that night. Like by a few minutes, do you think he was hiding the other half of the evidence here? Do you think he knew he would be killed?”

Junmyeon’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. He mumbles, “I don’t know gege, but maybe he wanted to make sure that no matter what, the truth would still come to light.”

Yifan sighs and leans against the window. Junmyeon passes two green lights before Yifan chuckles, “Hey, Myeon?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you out when all of this is over?”

Junmyeon glances at Yifan for a moment and even though the older is smiling, the look in his eyes tell Junmyeon that he’s being sincere. Junmyeon looks back to the road and smiles, shaking his head, “Ask me when it’s all over, I’ll answer you then.” He knows what his answer will be: always a yes, it has always been like that, who’s Junmyeon kidding? He loves Yifan, and he always will. He knows the media will come rain down on their ass and make a whole circus around it but maybe, maybe he’s fine with that. Too much time has been spent feeling miserable and not listening to his heart—this time, Junmyeon _is_ going to listen to his heart.

Yifan smiles and hides his blush behind his palm. He has another chance now, he will not let it go to waste. He reaches for Junmyeon, who lets Yifan hold his hand and he laces their fingers together. Yifan pulls their entwined hands and kisses each of Junmyeon’s knuckles. He watches the pink blooming across Junmyeon’s face as he mutters, “Ge…”

“It’s just,” Yifan says. “I didn’t just see the clue, I also saw the words Zitao wrote about me. I had no idea he knew, though I suppose he did because he knew I met you every now and then after the divorce. And though I think maa didn’t tell him about the pictures, I think he knew why I left. I’m just, I guess, finally listening to my baby brother?”

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t have the right words, so he just smiles, squeezing Yifan’s fingers. They are close to the college, so Yifan has to release Junmyeon’s hand. They park at a distance, they planned this to make sure no one sees the car in front of the college. They start walking the rest of the way. 

It takes ten minutes or so to get to the main gates. Yifan strolls casually in front of it and returns to Junmyeon, grinning, “Good news, there’s only one guard posted at the gate and he looks sleepy.”

Junmyeon nods, “Then, maybe we can use a distraction? One of us should slip in?”

“No, we go together,” Yifan looks around and finds a dark alley. “I don’t want to, but I think brute force is the answer.”

Junmyeon widens his eyes, “Are you sure?”

Yifan nods, his face is grim. “We need the time to look, don’t we?”

Junmyeon nods again, “Yes, yes you’re right.” He knows Yifan is right but it doesn’t ease the discomfort in his stomach.

Yifan decides to head to the gates first and Junmyeon stays at some distance, keeping an eye on Yifan. The older man walks up to the guard, who jerks himself awake and in a blink of an eye, the man is limp in Yifan’s arms. Junmyeon rushes over and together, they drag the poor man into the alley. Junmyeon leans over him and if he didn’t know, he would believe the man is sleeping. He looks at Yifan, asking, “What did you do?”

Yifan shrugs, “Just picked up some things from my brother.”

Junmyeon and Yifan walk to the gate and use the side door to get inside. The space is eerily empty and Junmyeon softly chuckles, “Why must educational institutions look so haunted at night?”

Yifan entwines their hands together and grins, “Don’t worry Myeon, I will save you from the ghosts.”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes and looks to his right. “Okay, whatever. We need to go this way, I remember it was behind the civil engineering department before the main cafeteria.”

They walk under the few lamplights still alight along the pathway. Junmyeon passes his own department and he smiles up at the moderate two-storey building. They keep walking and a roundabout comes about where Junmyeon hesitates for a moment (excuse him, he hasn’t been in here eight years) before deciding the path to his left is the right one. 

This area isn’t very well lit, so they take their time walking down the path. Junmyeon spots the mural and thanks god for the small torch he brought with him. He flashes the light on the wall and grins when he finds the mural hasn’t changed in all these years. “This is it, ge,” he whispers.

Yifan asks for the torch and Junmyeon passes it. He throws the light all across the surface and frowns, “How could anyone hide anything here?”

Junmyeon laughs as he touches the brick wall, “You could. Some of the bricks were loose. This is where your darling brother hid his cigarettes.”

“No wonder mama couldn’t find anything on him whenever he smelled like smoke,” Yifan mutters.

“But the problem is,” Junmyeon sighs. “There are many loose bricks on the wall. How do we know which one Zitao referred to?”

Yifan mumbles, “Where the red moon touches the purple sky and the stars dance down on our heads, where the red moon,” he points the torch at the big red disk, “There’s the moon against the purple sky.” He points the light at the shower of golden meteors falling down, curving over the moon. He whispers, “You don’t think my brother mistook meteors for stars, do you?”

“Knowing how he didn’t know pears and apple are two different fruits, I’d say yes,” Junmyeon says as he slowly understands what Yifan is trying to say. He runs his fingers along the seam of the cement layer, on the meteor shower design and he gasps when he finds one brick feeling a lot looser than the others. He digs his nails into the seam and pulls hard. The brick gives away and a dark cavity looks back at Junmyeon. He puts his hand inside and pulls out another Pendrive wrapped in a plastic bag. He grins, “Got it, ge!”

“Not so fast mister Kim,” a voice says from somewhere in the darkness. Yifan and Junmyeon whip their heads around and before they can fathom a bullet whizzes past them and embeds into the wall. Yifan shouts, “Shit! He’s here!”

While Yifan was sulking in the villa and Junmyeon went shopping some hours ago, Minseok receives an email on his phone from Junmyeon. 

_Hyung, I need you to do something for me. I can’t tell you much but it’s related to Zitao’s death. But at midnight today, I need you to call the cops and send them to the Hong Kong Institute of Technology. Please._

_Thanks,_

_Junmyeon_

Minseok is at home when he receives the email, so he is first of all confused, and then a whole lot scared. Lu Han sees his ashen face and comes around, reads the email and gasps, “Oh my god, is Junmyeon in trouble?”

Minseok gets startled a bit, but he nods, “I think, I think he accepted your offer for a reason Han.”

Lu Han chews his lip before saying, “What will you do?”

Minseok looks at the time. He still has two hours to go. “Well, I’d say we do as he asked. I won’t forgive myself if something happens to him.”

Lu Han puts his hand over his husband’s and nods. “Okay.”

As the bullet made bits of cement fly, Junmyeon grabs Yifan’s hand and drags him towards the cafeteria. It might be dark but Junmyeon remembers the layout well and they wind through the tables. His goal is to reach the kitchen; he knows there is a backdoor that opens to the back of the college. But Yixing gets to them and another bullet leaves his gun.

Junmyeon thinks it would hit something else but then Yifan yelps and falls, dragging Junmyeon down with him. Junmyeon pulls Yifan in his arms and his eyes burn when he sees Yifan grimacing in pain. Yixing had shot Yifan in his ankle. Junmyeon watches, in the dim light, how Yifan’s jeans slowly turn red and a pool of blood starts forming around his foot. Junmyeon says, “Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.” He desperately wishes his friends did not treat his email as a joke.

Yifan huffs, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Junmyeon hears footsteps and looks up to find Yixing grinning down at them, his gun pointed at their heads. He says, “I must say, you guys were a great help. Not only did I manage to get that damning evidence against me, but I also manage to explain away Zitao’s death.” He chuckles, “What a story it will make. Former husband and older brother conspire to kill Huang Zitao. Forbidden love and all that nonsense!”

Junmyeon scowls, his fear now mixing with annoyance. He asks, “How did you find us?”

Yixing grins, “I have eyes and ears all over the city mister Kim. Did you really think you could hide from me?” The grin slips from his face and he extends his hand, “Now, the Pendrive, both of them. I know you went to Huang’s office for a purpose mister Kim.”

“Myeon…”

Yifan groans and Junmyeon looks down at him, whispering, “Don’t worry, gege, I’m not leaving you again.”

Yifan shakes his head and smiles, “No, you need to run.”

“No.”

“Okay, very touching,” Yixing says, his voice scathing. “Hand over the things I want, now!”

Suddenly, more footsteps and more torchlight bursts into the space, and Junmyeon smiles in relief. Yixing, however, is confused, “What the fuck?”

Junmyeon grins, “You’d really think I came unprepared, hm?”

A week later, Junmyeon and Yifan are at Zitao’s funeral. Chunhua arrives too and makes quite the scene. Her mascara runs down her cheeks and her messy bun almost falls apart. Yifan almost gets a migraine and almost sends for security but Junmyeon stops him. As the guests slowly leave one by one, Lu Han and Minseok walk up to Junmyeon and pull him into hugs. Junmyeon had already given them his thanks before in the hospital but he feels renewed gratitude and affection for his friends again. Yifan and he would be dead if Minseok hadn’t treated the email that Junmyeon sent from a cyber cafe seriously.

The cops arrived at the right time and Yixing tried to convince them otherwise but Yifan and Junmyeon confirmed they knew who killed Zitao and handed both the Pendrives to the authorities. Yixing was arrested the next day, along with the CEO of the company he was working for and a bunch of low-level Triad members. 

Yifan was admitted to the hospital, he got the bullet removed but he also developed a limp that the doctor says will go away as the wound heals. Junmyeon moved into Yifan’s house to take care of him. They tried to keep their hands off each other but it didn’t last and Junmyeon can’t find it in himself to feel bad about it. Yifan is his and he is Yifan’s from now on. They haven’t gone out on a proper date yet but it can wait.

When the last of the guests are gone, Yifan and Junmyeon sit down on a couch. Junmyeon puts his head on Yifan’s shoulder and sighs, “This has been a long day.”

Yifan throws his arm around Junmyeon and smiles, “Can’t wait to go home and just sleep.”

Junmyeon hums and tilts his head up, silently seeking and Yifan hears him. They share a soft, tender kiss and Junmyeon mumbles against the older’s lips, “I love you.”

Yifan is still not used to Junmyeon saying those three words, no matter how much he waited to hear them. So, every time Junmyeon says it, he feels warm all over and his heart expands so much he is afraid it will fly out of his chest. He cups Junmyeon’s chin and says, “I love you too.” He presses a kiss on Junmyeon’s temple and decides to take his chance. “Hey, Myeon?”

Junmyeon says, “Hmm?”

“Marry me.”

Junmyeon leans back slightly, frowning, “Mister Wu Yifan, we just buried your brother—”

Yifan chuckles, “Hey, not today, or tomorrow, or even next week. Just wanted to say that I want to spend the rest of my life with you if you want to as well.”

Junmyeon’s frown dissolves into a smile and he throws his arms around Yifan’s neck. His heart beats a bit too loudly, and he knows what his answer is, so he says, “I think a summer wedding next year will be nice.”

Yifan just widens his eyes, laughs and kisses Junmyeon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, thank you for reading this mess. idk how this plot happened but i had to write this ignoring all my fic fest commitments  
> anyway, here's what everything means  
> Mensonge- lies  
> La Mort- The death  
> L'Amour- The love  
> La Réapparition- The reappearance  
> Cachant À La Vue- Hiding in plain sight  
> Justice is the same in English :)


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